


it's gonna be a cold winter, but i won't need the heat to keep me warm

by sheesusnat



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, catering au!, cheesy meet-cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-02-04 06:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 34,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12765192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheesusnat/pseuds/sheesusnat
Summary: Boone Jenner, owner of Jenner Catering & Events, finds himself standing between his mother and the man who he told his mother is his boyfriend. Ryan Murray, NHL defenseman, is looking for help keeping his demanding father off of his back, and doesn't know he's the aforementioned fake boyfriend, but once Boone tells him the story behind it, he realizes that they each have a problem that the other can help solve.Can they get through the holidays without Boone's mom finding out the truth? Can Ryan survive Christmas with his father? What happens when Boone and Ryan find themselves getting a little closer than either of them expected? Perhaps a little Christmas magic is in the air.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this originally started because I saw a tumblr post a year ago suggesting the idea of a Hallmark movie AU, and I was intrigued by it, and this little AU idea came to me and I ran with it.
> 
> It took a year to write this entire fic (it went abandoned between Christmas last year and this October until I found a cheerleader to push me to keep going with it) so the schedule and game dates are just made up, they don't follow the current CBJ/NHL schedule. I also realize that both Boone and Ryan's actual families are much larger than this (Boone has two brothers and Ryan's got three brothers and a sister), but for the purposes of this fic we're just pretending they're only children.
> 
> Title snagged from "All I Want for Christmas is Us" by Jason Mraz and Tristan Prettyman (which is a great song btw)
> 
> Merry Christmas everybody!

Boone stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the main hall, mental checklist ticking off as waiters in crisp whites carried tray upon tray of food to tables covered in the finest linens. It was the biggest event his fledgling company had ever catered, and every detail had to be perfect. Plating was good, flavors complementary, presentation impeccable. If dessert went as well as appetizers and entrees, he could write the evening off as a rousing success.

 

He tugged his chef's hat off, leaving it and a stained towel in the kitchen before stepping into the banquet room to survey the scene. A string quartet off to the far side of the dining area provided the ambience, but the chatter from the guests overwhelmed the musicians. Clinking silver on fine china, satisfied smiles all around as they ate the feast he and his team had prepared.

 

So far, so good.

 

It was two weeks before Christmas, and the Blue Jackets were having a holiday party for the players and their families. Boone had done events for the Jackets before, though always as an apprentice or an assistant. This was his first time running the show. This was the biggest test yet of his catering company, the love of his life. If this went well--it spelled out very, very good things for his future.

 

"Mr. Jenner, quite the meal you've given us tonight." The compliment came from John Davidson, who he'd been in contact with a few times while planning the menu. Or his administrative assistant, at least.

 

"I can't take much credit, the menu is mine, but the work comes from my team. They've outdone themselves," Boone said, deflecting the praise. "I'm just glad to see everyone enjoying it so much."

 

Boone made his way to each table, smiling pleasantly and offering seconds upon request. Each compliment was met with a hat-tip to his crew. This wasn't just his victory, after all. As he wound his way to the rear of the dining area, he came upon several of the younger, single players, no wives or children in tow. Boone had made a point to memorize the roster, addressing each member politely.

 

"Mr. Murray," he said, finally reaching the last table and the player he was most looking forward to speaking with. Ryan Murray looked up from his nearly empty plate, smiling pleasantly. "I take it you enjoyed your entree this evening?"

 

"God, just call me Murr. Or Ryan. But yeah, dinner was fantastic. Compliments to the chef," he said, nodding at Boone.

 

"Well if you need anything, Mister...or rather, Ryan, just have your server let me know, and we'll accommodate your request."

 

"Don't tempt me, I'm a bottomless pit, I'd clear your kitchen out if no one stopped me," Ryan replied with a smirk, patting his stomach. "Though I guess I'll leave room for dessert instead."

 

Boone tried not to beam with pride, but he might not have been successful. "Well as soon as we clear these plates away, desserts will be on their way out. Enjoy the rest of your night, Ryan, Merry Christmas."

 

Boone ducked from the room then, ears warm and fighting back a smile. Success indeed.

 

As his servers traded dirty china for perfectly plated desserts, he stood back to observe. It had been a good night.

 ____

 

"Boone, we're going to be in town for ten days, do you mean to tell us that you can't coordinate with that boyfriend of yours for even _one_ dinner? It's been over a year and we still haven't even spoken to him, not even on Facetime!"

 

Boone loved his mother, truly. She was a lovely woman. Only she had this irritating tendency to nag. And smother.

 

"Mom, I told you, he's really busy. His job demands a lot of his time," Boone was lying, but he was used to this by now. He'd spent nearly a year telling his mother about a mystery boyfriend, who was a great guy, really, he swore. He was just incredibly busy with work. All the time. Truth was, his boyfriend didn't technically exist.

 

Well, he existed. He just wasn't Boone's boyfriend.

 

"Boone, you've been together this long, it has to be serious," his mother continued. "Don't you think it's time he met your family? Does he think we aren't okay with your relationship? I joined PFLAG! I have a rainbow pin on my purse!"

 

Boone groaned, "No, mom, really. He knows you're not freaked out that I'm gay. He knows you and dad accepted that years ago. He's just busy, really. Eventually we'll get together, I promise. Just not this Christmas. Maybe for Easter."

 

Future Boone was already swearing at him. Sorry, Future Boone.

 

"Your father and I just thought it would be nice to get the whole family together, especially since you two have been together for so long already. Try to rearrange things, we'll stay an extra day if we have to!"

 

"Okay, mom, I'll see what I can do," Boone said, knowing it was impossible to get her off the topic without ending the phone call. "I've got to run, I have client meetings in the morning."

 

The thing is, Boone wasn't quite sure how it got this far. His mom had been nagging him since he turned 20 to find a nice boy, to start thinking of his future. She'd been married by 21, and now she expected her son to do the same. Explaining to her that for right now, catering was his significant other didn't cut it.

 

So last year he lied, he told her he had a boyfriend. It had been right after the Blue Jackets Christmas party, and the night was fresh in his mind. So he might've, maybe, kinda-sorta used a picture of Ryan Murray to show her. He might've, maybe, kinda-sorta made up a story that Ryan was a paralegal finishing law school and that's why his boyfriend was so busy all the time.

 

In his defence, his mom knew nothing about hockey, she would never know who Ryan Murray was or what he did for a living. He just had to keep her distracted for a few days every couple of months, and candid fan pictures of Murray seemed to do the trick. At least at first it did. Now she was getting increasingly antsy to _meet_ this supposedly wonderful boyfriend of his.

 

Boone would have to figure out a good breakup story. But then the nagging about being single would start again.

 

It was a no-win situation.

 

So as usual, when faced with an impossible problem, Boone went to the kitchen. He had three Christmas parties to cater the following weekend, as well as requests for several others with whom he was meeting the following day. He couldn't waste time worrying about his mother's preoccupation with his lack of a love life, he had samples to prepare.


	2. Chapter 2

For most of his teammates, Christmas was valuable time to spend with family: to see parents, to catch up with siblings.

 

But for Ryan, it meant endless questions about his routine, whether he'd met with the right nutritionist, if he had called that new strength coach, whether he'd started to plan his summer training schedule.

 

His parents were due to touch down in Columbus on December 19th. His dad had tickets to both games of the following homestand. Ryan wouldn't be surprised if they skipped Rudolph and watched game tape on Christmas Eve instead. His father was always more interested in Ryan's advanced stats than holiday movies.

 

Ryan already made sure he scheduled a maid service to clean his condo from top to bottom before they arrived. He bought new sheets for the guest bedroom. His mom would appreciate it, anyway.

 

But for dinner? He had nothing. He was pretty sure his basic pasta and chicken or meatloaf wasn't going to cut it for Christmas dinner. He'd spent a week trying to plan out what he would do for eating, but most of the options were going to be unhealthy, and they'd result in a lecture from his father about nutrition and how you couldn't cut corners on your diet just because it was a holiday, about how True Winners didn't take days off.

 

So after a few phone calls to various front office staff, he'd gotten the number for the company that catered the team Christmas party. The food had been delicious, and if he could talk with the chef, he was sure there was something dad-approved they could come up with to serve. Assuming the guy wasn't already booked completely straight through the rest of the year, of course. It was a Hail Mary, hoping for a caterer to be available on Christmas day, a week before the holiday. Though Ryan was willing to pay well above and beyond whatever his normal fee included if he could talk him into helping out.

 

He found their office, what looked like it had once been a house, but now a large "Jenner Events and Catering" sign hung above the doorway. 

 

Ryan climbed out of his car, prepared to literally beg for help. If he had to throw his name around, he'd do it, no matter how much it made him cringe to pull the Professional Hockey Player card.

 

"Oh my god!" A woman standing on the porch of the house-slash-office exclaimed as soon as she saw him. It wasn't that Ryan  _ never _ got recognized in public, but it wasn't all that common either. He certainly didn't want to cause a scene right here, not when he was about to go inside and plead with someone to make his Christmas dinner. "You're Ryan, right?"

 

"I am indeed, ma'am, it's a pleasure to meet you," Ryan said, walking up the stairs and extending his hand.

 

"Oh goodness, look at you, so polite and proper," the woman said with a laugh. "Come on, give me a hug!"

 

She pulled Ryan into a tight hug, and Ryan wasn't really sure how to react. She was older--his mom's age, probably, and her husband was standing back, smiling pleasantly. He didn't think she was a threat, but the hug was a bit much. "Oh my, ma'am, thank you, but…"

 

"Lordy, Ryan, it's so great to finally meet you. Our son in there has been keeping you all to himself, he said you'd be too busy all week, but here you are, coming to visit him at work!"

 

Ryan's head was spinning, he had no idea what this woman was talking about. She must've had the wrong guy. "Ma'am, I'm really sorry, but I think there's some confusion…"

 

The front door opened at that moment, and the chef from the party stepped outside, and his face immediately went ashen. "Mom, what are you doing?"    
  


"Oh honey, we won't stick around, we know you're excited for a lunchtime surprise from your handsome gentleman here, I was just so excited to meet him finally!" 

 

Ryan was meanwhile just looking between this possibly crazy woman and the man in the doorway, who had gone from ghostly pale to bright pink. He looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole, and he shot Ryan a quick grimace. "Sorry, this...is weird. Um, these are my parents. Mom, Dad, this is Ryan Murray." 

 

Ryan was surprised that he'd remembered his name, and he immediately felt bad for not checking the business card in his pocket for the chef's name as well. "Um, hello, Mr. and Mrs…" Ryan glanced at the sign over the door "Jenner? It's great to meet you."

 

He still had absolutely no idea what was happening.

 

"Oh Ryan, please tell us that you can get away for dinner tonight? We promise we won't keep you long!" Mrs. Jenner prodded, and Ryan looked at her son for some sign of what the hell was going on.

 

"Mom, stop, I'll talk to him and I'll let you know. Go, go, I have meetings all morning. I love you both, go make yourselves at home at my place."

 

Kisses all around, including another bear hug for Ryan from Mrs. Jenner, and then they were gone.

 

The chef leaned against the closed door to his business and rubbed a hand over his face. "Holy shit, I'm so sorry for everything that just happened. It's a really long story."

 

Ryan was still confused, but the flustered look on the man in front of him was kind of endearing. "Well first and foremost, if your mom is going to be hugging me like that, I should at least know what your name is."

 

"Boone Jenner, sorry about...everything." Boone paused, brow furrowing. "Wait, R. Murray. You're my 11:15 appointment, aren't you?"

 

"Guilty as charged."

 

"Oh Jesus," Boone grimaced again, opening the door and motioning Ryan inside. "Come on in, I'll get you some coffee and try to explain the mess you just walked in on."

____

 

For the next ten minutes, steaming coffee cup in hand, Ryan listened as Boone recounted the whole story. Nagging mother, fake boyfriend, awful timing.

 

He wasn't sure if he should be freaked out, humiliated, or amused. Boone looked positively mortified by it all, sitting at his desk, raking a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up in the front. His brow was furrowed as he talked, admitting the whole story. Ryan was leaning toward amused. 

 

"Wait, so your mom thinks you're dating me?"

 

"I mean, she thinks I'm dating a guy named Ryan, who looks like you. Mom knows nothing about sports, so she has no idea you're a hockey player, I swear." Boone was hunched deep in his desk chair, Ryan instinctively wanted to warn him about his posture.

 

"Okay, this all makes a bit more sense now. The hugging seems a lot less weird, if she thinks I've been dating her son for a year," Ryan was still running the whole story over in his head. He had to admit, it wasn't a terrible plan, and if not for some truly awful timing, Boone would've gotten away with it, no problem.

 

"I'll go to dinner tonight and explain the whole thing to them, it was only a matter of time before they figured it out anyway," Boone said, scratching his pen in the same geometric scribble over and over on the notepad in front of him. "If you're not completely freaked out, I swear I'd be happy to take care of anything you came to see me about today, and if not, I have other contacts in the city who I can call in favors from, if you're uncomfortable working with my company after...all of that."

 

Ryan watched Boone and thought about the whole situation. "I'd still really like your help, we're getting close to Christmas and I have a very particular father to try to please, and I could use a professional's advice for a menu. It would be on Christmas itself, though, and I don't know if that's asking too much."

 

Boone chewed on his pen cap, tapping his phone, checking his calendar for the month. "Christmas itself is rough for me, my parents will still be here in town, and I have several deliveries already planned. I'm sure I can put you in contact with another caterer with a larger staff…"

 

Inexplicably, Ryan was disappointed, but a meal was a meal. If it kept his father off of his back, he'd take what he could get. "That should be fine, if you can find someone who would be available on Christmas, I'd appreciate it."

 

He paused, letting Boone click through his phone a few more minutes. He was rattling off names, "I know Louis over at Holmes' Catering, he has a pretty huge operation over there, I'm sure he could spare something for a small family dinner…"

 

He trailed off, scribbling a name, phone number and address down and kept scrolling, lips moving as he read through the contacts under his breath.

 

"You'll still have to tell your parents the awkward news that we either broke up, or you lied to them for a year," Ryan realized, voicing it aloud, watching Boone's reaction. A grimace, a nod. 

 

"It's my own fault, I should've just dealt with the guilt trips on my own, so I walked myself right into this mess. But I owe you, for not completely blowing my cover out there, and probably also for not trying to punch me once I told you the whole story" he handed a sheet of paper over with several company names and numbers scrawled in only half-legible writing. "Take your pick, I'll contact them directly and make sure your family is taken care of for the holiday."

 

Ryan scanned the list, recognizing a few names from events the Blue Jackets had held over the last few seasons. If he was honest, he really wanted to do business with Boone. If it was a little bit because he was handsome, and because his chagrin over being caught in a lie was endearing, well, no one needed to know that. He realized that asking for a last minute Christmas dinner was a tall order, but Ryan was starting to think that maybe they could help each other through this one.

 

"I might have another idea in mind, actually."


	3. Chapter 3

Boone was still reeling, sitting at the IKEA desk in his office. What the hell were the chances of his parents leaving his office at the exact minute that the inspiration for his fake boyfriend story was arriving? And of course his mother had to freak out. Because why not.

He was just glad Ryan hadn't freaked out. Or like, hit him. He was pretty sure he could take him if he had to, but frankly, he probably deserved a black eye. And that would've been fun to explain to his parents.

Instead, Ryan leaned forward in his seat. "We might have something we can work with here. Your parents are expecting a boyfriend for dinner tonight, right? We have an off day, so I'm free for the evening. If you will personally take care of dinner for my parents on Christmas Day, I can come to dinner with yours tonight and play the part. As long as it doesn't get out that I'm a hockey player, because that just gets...dicey. Too many questions. So we'll just have to be discreet about it."

Boone watched him, wide-eyed, his pen still tracing over the M in Murray on the sheet in front of him, that one letter thicker and darker than the rest. "Are you crazy? You saw what my mom was like in one 5 minute interaction. If you went to dinner, she'd start picking out china patterns and planning our gift registry."

Ryan shrugged a shoulder, let out a chuckle. "Well yeah, but it seems like it might be kind of funny. And it would get you off the hook, and you can tell her we broke up before Easter, no need to ever tell the 'fake boyfriend' story at all. As long as she's not going to be tagging me on Instagram in a million pictures, I think we can get away with it."

"I'm not sure if you're actually insane, if you're willing to go hang out with my mother tonight," Boone cautioned, "but if you're still all in, I'm sure as hell not about to turn you down. And besides, her Instagram is private and she only has 18 followers, so I think we're safe."

Boone was scanning his work calendar for the week of Christmas. He could prepare some of the soups and desserts ahead of time and keep them in the deep freeze. He could come in a couple of hours early and stay a couple of hours late. It was going to be difficult, but he would be able to make it work. "How adept are you in the kitchen? I could have a meal fully prepared that you'd just have to put in the oven to heat. I could drop the trays off in the morning, and I'd leave detailed instructions on each one about how to reheat and serve."

Ryan smirked, one eyebrow raised. "I think I can manage turning on an oven and using a timer, Mr. Jenner."

Boone grinned in return, unable to hold it back. "Well you are hiring a professional to make dinner, forgive me for assuming." Despite the awkwardness of the situation, he liked Ryan. He liked talking with him. "I'm in for Christmas if you think you can handle having dinner with my parents. I'll warn you, I do think you're slightly insane for this. My mom is going to be intense, I haven't had an actual serious relationship in years."

Ryan pulled out his phone, tapping around on it. "Well, my requests for dinner are going to be a pain in the ass, so you're not getting off easy." He held his phone up, an email with a list of acceptable menu items and ingredients. "Give me your number, I'll send you my nutritionist's guidelines, and literally whatever you plan out using those restrictions is fine by me."

A few minutes later, numbers exchanged, Ryan's weird diet requests filed away, Boone started to feel his shoulders crawling away from his ears, the tension in his neck easing just a little. "For tonight, I was planning to just make dinner at my apartment, so I guess I'll just give you the address?"

Ryan nodded, opening the GPS app on his phone. "Send me the address, and some random information I should know about you. Birthday, where you went to school, whatever you told them about how we met and what I do...whatever I need to know so I can stick to your story."

Boone couldn't actually believe what was happening, but he did as Ryan requested. Now they just had to be believable enough for his parents.

____

It was a pretty good story that Boone had come up with. To Boone's parents, Ryan was a paralegal at a law firm, he would be an attorney as soon as he finished school and passed the Bar (thanks for the ego boost on his intelligence, Jenner). They'd met when Boone's former boss had catered a luncheon for Ryan's firm. Boone had asked for his number, Ryan made the first call. They would hit their one year anniversary right after the new year. Boone had started his catering company at the beginning of the year after apprenticing under some guy named Jacques.

Ryan was pretty sure he had everything memorized, but he was going to try to mostly smile and nod and just hope he didn't completely contradict Boone's story. It was just dinner, how bad could it be?  
____

It's just dinner, Boone told himself a few hours later, standing in his kitchen, dishes piled high in the sink and three pots going on the stove, not to mention the 375 degree oven that had upped the temperature enough that he could feel sweat beading at the nape of his neck. 

Just dinner. How bad could it be?

"Boone, darling, you need to clean up. That handsome boy of yours will be here any moment, you can't be covered in food splatters," his mom chimed as she poked her head in from the dining room. 

Yeah. Dinner could be that bad.

"I'm almost finished with the sauce, Mom. As soon as it's ready, I'll clean up, I promise. It's your first time meeting him, not mine."

Well, that was technically the truth. Even if his only meetings had been in passing, he had met Ryan before tonight.

As soon as he turned the burner off, his mother was beside him. "Look, Boone, it's finished. I'll take the squash from the oven. Go shower."

He knew he wasn't going to talk her down, so instead he just went along with it and headed toward his bedroom. This had all the makings of a disaster, he should just call Ryan and tell him not to come. But he showered still, fixed his hair. He wasn't dressing for a date. This wasn't a date. It was dinner with his crazy mother, and Ryan was doing him a favor.

He still put on a freshly ironed shirt and a spray of cologne.

"Terri, you're going to embarrass him if you don't relax," Boone heard his father as he strode back toward the kitchen. He appreciated the effort, anyway.

"Okay, all non-chefs out of the kitchen, let me finish this," he handed a bottle of red wine--dry, it would match well with the sweetness of the roasted squash--and four glasses to his parents. "Pour those so the wine can breathe a little before we start dinner."

In the kitchen, Boone knew what he had to do. The rest of the night was a potential disaster, but dinner would be a success. Roasted butternut squash over risotto, with pan-seared pork loin and a honey-apple glaze. It would be damn delicious, and he was pretty sure it hit the right notes on the list that Ryan had given him. 

If the rest of the night was a trainwreck, at least he'd have given Ryan a good meal before it all went haywire.

As he spooned glaze over the last dish, Ryan buzzed to be let in. 

Boone wiped a drip of sauce from the rim of the plate and took a breath. Showtime.


	4. Chapter 4

Boone's apartment was a short drive from Ryan's place, and as he walked toward the building, Ryan was regretting that fact. He was more nervous than he'd expected to be for this, he wished he had more time in the car to prepare himself. He was running through the fake backstory as he walked, tapping his fingers on the keys in his pocket. He smoothed his tie--the tie was probably overkill, but he wasn't sure of the formality of the occasion. He could take it off if he needed to.

 

He checked his phone once more, 14D. Right apartment. He pushed the button for Boone's apartment and heard the front door click unlocked. He really didn't want to ruin this for Boone. He wasn't entirely sure why he cared so much, other than he'd seen the look of desperation on Boone's face as he told the story earlier.

 

A too-quick elevator ride later, the door swung open and immediately he was enveloped by the smell--no, aroma, this was an honest to god _aroma_ \--of whatever was for dinner. "Jesus, I didn't realize I was getting gourmet cooking tonight," he said.

 

Boone looked pleased, his cheeks already flushed. "Come on in, my parents are in the dining room," he paused just inside the door to take Ryan's jacket and dropped his voice. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

 

Ryan just faked a bow and spoke in the same soft murmur, "Ryan Murray, future litigator, at your service."

 

Boone smiled again. His mouth was too wide. Teeth a little too large. Ryan liked it anyway.

 

The seemingly crazy woman from earlier rounded the corner, carrying a glass of wine, and her eyes lit when she saw him. "Ryan, you're here!" She stepped toward him, a bit too fast.

 

"Terri," the other man--Boone's father, he assumed--placed a hand on her shoulder. Then he extended a hand. "I'm Matt Jenner, it's good to meet you."

 

Ryan shook his hand, meeting his gaze steadily. He'd met parents before, he knew how this worked. "Wonderful to meet you, Mr. Jenner, and you as well, Mrs. Jenner."

 

He turned to shake her hand as well and she may have swooned. Perhaps she'd just had too much wine. Or she was just that excited to meet whoever was dating her son. Ryan couldn't imagine his own parents ever being that excited about something as normal as a significant other. Hell, Ryan's dad likely wouldn't be this excited if he won the Stanley Cup.  "Oh dear, Ryan, call us Matt and Terri. Let me get you a glass of the wine, Boone was finishing with dinner, so we can talk."

 

Boone was barely disguising the panic on his face, but Ryan simply took the glass from his dad. "My pleasure, Terri, let's give him some time to finish dinner, it smells fantastic, doesn't it?"

 

He gave Boone a look, hopefully reassuring, and rested a hand on his forearm. "And if you need help in the kitchen, just let me know." He hoped the gesture was familiar enough without being overboard.

 

"Right, right," Boone started at the touch, then nodded once, "let me finish up. Just a minute, don't get comfortable out here."

 

Ryan made a quick scan of all the apartment that he could see. Kitchen toward the back, small, galley-style. There was a half-wall between that and the dining area. He wanted to appear like he knew the place well--they'd supposedly been dating for nearly a year now. He would've been here before.

 

"So Boone tells us that you're finishing up law school?"

 

"Yes ma'am, I just finished with midterms, I'm thrilled to have some time away from the books. Just one more semester before I have to get a real job," he added with a grin and a sip of his wine.

 

"It's quite a challenge, passing the Bar, you're going to be spending even more time studying once school gets back in?" Matt was much calmer than Terri, he had an easy-going smile. Ryan could see the resemblance to his son.

 

"Absolutely, fortunately your son makes sure I'm well-fed, or I'd probably waste away. I'd completely forget to eat if he wasn't taking care of me," Terri beamed at this, clearly proud of her son's work. "He's an exceptional talent in the kitchen."

 

"Make sure you tell all of your lawyer friends and contacts, any references are good for a new business," Matt said.

 

"I've already helped him line up a job for Christmas this year, but I don't think he'll be needing my help very much. His work speaks for itself," Ryan glanced in the kitchen at this, caught a glimpse of Boone's face. His jaw was tight and his brow furrowed. "Give me a moment, please, let me see if he needs a hand in there."

 

____

 

Boone had already finished off one glass of wine and was pouring a second when Ryan walked into the kitchen, looking bemused. "If you drink too much of that, _you're_ going to screw this up, not me."

 

"This was a dumbass idea," Boone said with a huff, then grimaced. "No offense."

 

"None taken, and it's not a dumbass idea unless you freak out and ruin it. Your parents think I'm great. Relax. It's just small talk, dinner, and then I'll bow out as soon as we have after-dinner drinks, okay?"

 

Ryan had laid a hand at the small of his back, just the tiniest pressure. It was more soothing than Boone would have expected. He took a deep breath and let it out, glancing at Ryan once more. "Alright. Dinner. I'll grab two plates, you grab the others."

 

"About damn time, teasing me with all this food and then making me wait for it," Ryan said, grabbing two of the impeccably plated dishes. He put on a wide grin and carried them into the dining room, calling to his parents. "Dinner is served, ladies and gentlemen. Hurry up before I eat yours too."

____

  
  


A half hour later, Boone could finally feel the knot in his stomach unwinding. Ryan was downright charming with his parents. He was soft-spoken but funny, he indulged his mother's fawning with ease. The night had gone exceptionally well. Boone wasn't quite ready to let his guard down, but so far it hadn't been a disaster.

 

"I can't believe you kept him to yourself so long, Boone!" his mother protested as he cleared the plates from the table. "Ryan, you must join us for Easter, I insist. My cooking won't be nearly as impressive as my son's, but I promise you'll leave full."

 

"Full of approximately 4000 calories worth of cutout egg-shaped cookies, anyway," Boone added, taking the plate--fully cleaned of every last bit of food, to his delight--from in front of Ryan.

 

"Let me help you," Ryan said, taking the rest of the dishes and following him to the kitchen. "We'll have a slightly less fattening dessert for tonight, I brought Riesling."

 

Boone leaned against the counter out of his parents' sight and let out a breath he might have been holding since they sat down. Ryan caught his eye and grinned. Boone returned the smile.

 

"Holding up okay?"

 

"One last test, then I'll be able to sleep tonight," Boone took the bottle and pulled the cork, nodding at the cupboard next to him. "Glasses are there, this won't work as well in the red glasses."

 

"I promise you that neither me nor your parents are going to care about drinking Riesling from a red wine glass, you're the only one who'd notice," Ryan said, but took down four stemless glasses anyway.

 

"I'm drowning over here, this lets me control something, eh?" Boone poured the wine into each of the glasses, standing near to Ryan. He was wearing the same cologne as Boone.

 

"Got it, control issues about food, I'll put that in my Boone Jenner facts file for future reference."

 

Boone started to tell him he wouldn't need that information later, but Ryan was already leaving the room before he got a chance.

____

 

An hour later, Riesling bottle nearly empty, Ryan made his way toward the front door. "It was wonderful finally getting to meet you, Matt, Terri. I'll try to be less busy in the future, I promise." He shook Matt's hand, accepted a slightly-too-tight hug from Terri. She hadn't stopped beaming since he walked in the door.

 

He was most certainly not used to family dinners like this, full of easy banter and well-intentioned teasing. Boone's parents would make fun of him, but they were clearly and obviously proud of him. Ryan wished his dad was even half as accepting.

 

"Now if you don't mind, I'm going to steal your son away to walk me to the car," he wanted to make sure Boone was okay. His knuckles had been white all evening, they were just starting to color again.

 

"I'll be right back, guys. Leave the dishes."

 

A moment later they were in the hallway. And the night was officially a success.

 

"See, I told you it wouldn't be that bad," Ryan said, walking toward the elevator.

 

"It wasn't _your_ mother who would've melted down if she knew the truth, easy for you to say," Boone stabbed the down arrow for the elevator and grinned. "But you outdid yourself, you most certainly upheld your end of the bargain."

 

"And I got a preview of _your_ end of it as well. That dinner was awesome, I could've eaten two more plates of it."

 

The last bit of anxiety left Boone's face, a smile broadening over his cheeks. Ryan was just being honest--and he liked Boone's smile anyway.

 

Ryan led the way to his car, tapping the key fob in his pocket. "Hey, if you need anything else to keep the story going until you figure the breakup story, it's fine," he said, SUV beeping as he unlocked it. "Like, we could send pictures or something. You have my number, just keep me updated. It's kind of fun playing the part. Your parents are pretty great."

 

"My parents are exhausting, but thank you. I might take you up on that. Maybe a New Year's picture or something."

 

"Or just after, anniversary dinner."

 

Boone looked impressed that he remembered. "You just want another free meal."

 

"I'm not going to incriminate myself," Ryan said, "but the thought had crossed my mind."

 

"Well I _suppose_ that could be arranged," Boone said, his eyes dancing. Was he flirting? Or just tipsy?

 

"I mean, if I'm doing couple pictures for your parents, I'd say you _owe_ me another meal," for his part, Ryan was definitely flirting.

 

Boone grinned, slow and easy, and reached over to open the door for Ryan. "We'll have to negotiate the terms on that agreement."


	5. Chapter 5

For two days after  _ the dinner _ with Ryan, Boone's mother wouldn't stop talking about him. How charming he was. What a wonderful young man he was. How well he listened to her stories. No wonder Boone was so smitten with him.

 

Boone could've done without it, given how he had realized all the same things. Ryan had played the part of attentive boyfriend like a seasoned pro, and Boone wondered if there was a girlfriend in the picture. Not that it was any of his business. Most certainly not any of his business.

 

Fortunately, the week of Christmas meant that he had plenty to distract him. He was fielding phone calls from customers about last minute changes to their menus, adding guests, requesting vegetarian options. He was happy to have his part-time assistant back from college to help with the paperwork and phone tag so he could focus on the work in the kitchen.

 

"Boone, Mr. Murray from your Christmas morning delivery responded to your last email," Katherine poked her head from the office, and Boone's ears perked up. "He confirmed the menu you sent over and wanted to be sure to thank you for taking so much care with it."

 

That was the one order Boone had hoped to handle himself. "That's great," he responded, playing off his disappointment. "I can get started on that one tomorrow morning."

 

"He also asked how Terri and Matt are," she added, one eyebrow arched high. "As in your parents. How does Mr. Murray know who Terri and Matt are?"

 

Boone felt his face flush, and hoped that the kitchen was warm enough to cover him for it. "It's a long story, Kath, and I have way too much work to get into it."

 

"Right, right, I'm sure it's nothing. Should I just leave his emails for you from now on?" Boone refused to look at her, but he could hear the smirk in her voice.

 

"I doubt he'll need anything else from us, but I appreciate the thought," he was going to call her on being a smartass, but the phone rang and she left the room, chuckling to herself.

 

Boone went back to the stock he was preparing, trying to stop the warmth sliding up the back of his neck, over the tips of his ears. Ryan Murray was just a customer now, no matter how much Boone couldn't get him out of his head.

 

It was well past midnight when he finally left the confines of his kitchen, hands aching and neck stiff, but it was a good kind of sore. Being busy to the point of exhaustion meant he was doing something right. His parents were asleep when he got home, the still apartment a welcome relief. He fingered through the mail on the table, mostly junk mail, a Christmas card from his dentist's office.

 

He didn't want to disturb the silence, so he changed quietly into flannel pants and a t-shirt that was thin from years of wear. He crawled into bed, only the light of his phone brightening the room. His email was mostly advertisements for last minute sales, and there were a few forwarded client messages that Katherine had patched through for review. 

 

Right in the middle of it all was the email Ryan had sent. 

 

_ Boone, _

 

_ The menu looks fantastic, all the nutritional bases are covered, so my dad shouldn't give me too much shit. I really appreciate you putting so much work into this, and fitting it in for Christmas. It makes my holiday drastically less stressful. _

 

_ How are Terri and Matt doing? Did everyone recover from dinner okay? _

 

_ Looking forward to another fantastic meal, thanks again for everything. If you need anything else, let me know. _

 

_ -Murr _

 

If Boone was being honest with himself, the stupid grin on his face by the time he got to the end of the message was pathetic. Ryan was a good guy, and he was just trying to be nice. He knew how worried Boone had been for that dinner. This meant nothing. He was still damn pleased.

 

No wonder Katherine had laughed at him.

____

 

Ryan checked his email again while he sat at the airport waiting for his parents. Still no response from Boone other than the stock acknowledgement that his menu and delivery time had been confirmed. Not that he should've expected anything else, Boone had only sent over the menu, and Ryan had approved it. It was a business transaction. He wasn't likely to get an email to chat, especially not during a holiday week when Boone's family was visiting and his business was swamped. 

 

He didn't have time to explore the nagging disappointment before his parents appeared. "Ryan, good to see you," his father said, offering a half-handshake, half-hug. His mother was a bit warmer, but not by much; not too sentimental, the Murray clan.

 

The drive to Ryan's condo started easily enough. His mother talked about the woman she was seated next to on the plane and updated him on his cousin's wedding plans for the coming summer. He caught up on family news first, and then his dad started on hockey. Ryan had a game later that night--his father told him not to worry about picking them up, it would interfere with his game-day routine, but Ryan had talked him out of that. At the moment, he was regretting that decision. He should've just booked them an Uber.

 

"I know Vancouver is rebuilding, but they've got some really good young players you've got to watch out for," his dad was saying, sounding remarkably like the scouting report Torts had given them earlier that morning.

 

"Yeah, they've picked up some good ones lately," Ryan offered, trying to show he was listening.

 

"You're going to be playing third pair," his father said, and Ryan felt it like an accusation, "so they're going to try to have their top line against you as much as possible. You'll have to watch passing lanes. The Sedins aren't what they used to be, but they'll catch you if you're not paying attention."

 

The rest of the drive was much of the same, his father voicing his opinion on matchups, making sure Ryan knew which plays he'd been faltering on lately. If left up to his father, he'd be joining Ryan for team meetings this week. Ryan wouldn't be surprised if he had a video session over breakfast the next morning. 

 

"Sorry to leave you two alone so soon after you've arrived, but I'm going to have to get a pre-game nap in, so I'll just let you settle in," he told them, depositing their bags in the guest room as soon as they got to his place. "I scheduled a driver to pick you up and drive you to the game, and you can ride home with me after."

 

Before his dad could get into any more Xs or Os, Ryan slipped from the room and down the hall. He didn't sleep well, which was never a good sign for the game ahead. He was dressed and ready to leave before usual, but he wanted to get out of the house as soon as possible. The last thing he needed was a pep talk from his dad.

 

Miraculously he was able to sneak out without alerting them, but it meant that he had time to kill before he had to be at the arena. He stopped for coffee on the way and took the long route, but he still had a few minutes in his car before he had to go inside to get ready for the game. 

 

It took him four separate tries before he was satisfied enough with a text to send to Boone. He was probably busy with work. Ryan should probably have left him alone. He hit send anyway.

 

_ Be glad our deal was dinner with your parents and not mine _

 

To Ryan's surprise, the response came quickly.

 

_ I find that hard to believe. Rough visit already? _

 

Ryan thought back to dinner with Boone's parents. Pretty sure Boone's dad wouldn't ever give him a hard time for a dish that didn't have enough salt or some other mundane flaw. If Ryan had been a chef, his dad would probably be worse than the harshest food critic.

 

_ Less than 2 hours in and I'm counting down until they leave. _

 

Ryan made his way into the arena, still the first one there, but it was no longer so early as to be uncomfortable. He was riding a bike to warm his muscles when Boone texted back.

 

_ I'll make sure it's an extra special dinner to make it suck less. _

 

A moment later his phone buzzed again.

 

_ If you need a break from them, I could use some muscle for a delivery tomorrow. _

 

He'd have to come up with an excuse for his parents, but he didn't think about turning it down for a moment. It would be worth it to get a reprieve from his father's criticism.

 

_____

 

Ryan knew it was going to be a long game from the first faceoff. He knew he was gripping his stick too tight, that he was trying too hard to stay a play or two ahead. He was overthinking each shift, and all too often, attempting to do everything right meant you did something wrong. Wrong enough to result in a really ugly goal against.

 

His dad would have plenty to say about that minus.

 

The rest of the game was just as choppy, but at least there were no more blatant errors. He missed coverage on a few plays, fumbled a couple of breakout passes. It wasn't that he didn't already know what he'd done wrong--he was aware enough to pick up on his own mistakes--but that didn't mean he was getting out of the post-mortem after the game. The Blue Jackets squeaked out a win in overtime, but Ryan had certainly not contributed enough toward it, and he knew the drive home would be miserable.

 

It was even worse than he expected. 

 

For the detail of his critique, Ryan would've assumed his dad brought a notebook, but there was no such outline he could see. But that didn't make his breakdown of Ryan's mistakes less scathing. "You jumped too quick on that play, and he out-waited you. If you would've been a little more patient, you could've stripped him of the puck and neutralized their whole forecheck. You left Harrington out to dry on that play, it was a disaster. Torts probably should've given you a few shifts off for that."

 

By halfway through the drive, Ryan had tuned him out. He nodded at the right intervals, but he didn't hear any of it. If he took it all to heart, he would be useless for at least the next five games; his father's commentary would be ringing in his ears for weeks if he didn't let his mind wander.

 

"Look, dad, I get it," Ryan finally stopped him, once he was standing in his kitchen nearly an hour later. He was sore. He was tired. A dull ache was winding its way up his neck and into the base of his skull.  "It was a rough night. I'll work on...all of that. I'm going to bed."

 

His dad looked like he had more to say, but Ryan had listened enough, and he slipped off to his room despite his father's insistence otherwise.

 

_ Sorry to get back to you so late. What time do you need the muscle? _

 

Ryan stripped out of his game suit and hung it up instead of draping it over the chair like usual. One less thing for his dad to give him shit for. He was brushing his teeth when his phone buzzed again.

 

_ Meet me at the office at 8:15, delivery time is 9:30. You sure you want to help? _

 

_ As long as you don't critique my defensive awareness, I'm in. _


	6. Chapter 6

Boone wasn't sure if he actually expected Ryan to show up the next morning. When he rounded the corner to his office, though, there was a large black SUV already in the parking lot. He hadn't just shown up, he'd beaten Boone and his entire staff.

 

"I wasn't sure how you took your coffee," Ryan said as he climbed from his car once Boone parked. "I just got it black, but I grabbed sugar and cream if you wanted."

 

"So you come to provide free labor  _ and _ you bring me coffee? I might have to hire you."

 

"Who said it was free labor?" Ryan asked, following Boone up the stairs and inside. "I was expecting breakfast."

 

Boone checked the answering machine first, no messages yet. He shrugged his jacket off and motioned for Ryan to do the same. "I can't promise much, but I know we have a couple of irregular danishes left over from making the McCullough order. They don't look pretty, but they'll still taste good."

 

Ryan followed Boone back toward the kitchen, a few boxes already stacked there. Boone knew the rest were in the walk-in. That was the muscle part.

 

"Are pastries ever bad? Especially coming from your kitchen?" Boone warmed at the compliment, but laughed it off anyway. 

 

"You're already getting Christmas dinner, Murray, you don't have to flatter me anymore," it had been a long time since Boone flirted with anyone. He wasn't sure if he was actually any good at it.

 

"I'm aiming for a New Year's feast next," Ryan said, looking around the industrial kitchen. Boone was glad he'd taken the extra time last night to make sure everything was properly scrubbed down, even if it kept him here past one in the morning.

 

"Another free meal means you're going to have to spend more time with my parents," Boone warned, grabbing a tray of mismatched and lopsided danishes, opening the lid to offer one to Ryan.  "If I'm going to have a fake boyfriend, I'm going to get my money's worth."

 

Ryan grabbed one of the cherry danishes and tore off a bite. Boone was pleased to see his lips curl up immediately. "Shit, man, you're really good at this."

 

Boone put the lid back on the pastries and pushed them aside on the shelf then went about mixing his coffee. "Trust me, for every good recipe, there have been several awful ones. But I appreciate it. It's always nice when someone likes what you do."

 

"It makes me wish I  _ did _ actually need New Year's dinner, your food is incredible," Ryan finished the danish in record time. Maybe it was an athlete thing.

 

Boone thought about offering to make him dinner on New Year's anyway. But that wouldn't be a business dinner. That would be a date. And he probably shouldn't date a customer. But then, he didn't have any rules about that. And it was his own company anyway.

 

Though he wasn't sure Ryan would actually want a date with him. And he already had a huge New Year's Eve gala to cater.

 

"...the muscle part come in?"

 

Shit. He missed something. "Sorry, sorry, I was distracted. What was that?"

 

Ryan grinned at him and tapped the side of his coffee cup, "Good thing I brought you one of these, eh? I asked when the muscle part comes in."

 

"Oh, right! Yeah, we need Jacob to bring the van, once he's here we can load everything in there and we'll follow him over and get it all set up on site," Boone mentally ticked off the boxes that were already sitting on the counters against the checklist he knew was saved on his phone. "We can bring the stuff from the walk-in, and I'll make sure everything is accounted for."

 

He led Ryan back to the refrigerator that took up much of the back wall of Boone's building and held the door open. The boxes for each order were clearly labeled and numbered just as Boone had requested. "Be especially careful with boxes 4 and 5, but you can just stack everything out on the counters. We'll transfer them to the van after I've ticked the checklist."

 

Boone had never had any kind of an athlete on his staff, but he'd have to rethink that in the future. Ryan moved all of the boxes with ease, stacked meticulously where Boone could see the labels to double-check. 

 

"You had to be having one crappy visit with the parents to prefer a morning spent in a 40 degree walk-in fridge," Boone commented idly as he marked notes down for the order. 

 

"Well as far as my dad knows, I'm currently in a meeting with the team's video coach, going over all the many, many mistakes I made during our game last night," Ryan smirked, but Boone noticed the shadow in his eyes.

 

"I feel bad keeping you from your family, though," Boone offered, keeping an eye on Ryan's face.  "I can't imagine you see them too much," 

 

"I'm not necessarily broken up about that fact. They've been here for less than 24 hours and my dad has spent most of that time playing head coach," he shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I have a real coach for that, and they pay  _ him _ a couple mill a year to yell at me."

 

Boone didn't want to pry, and he wasn't sure Ryan would want to talk about it with him. "I mean, you made it to the NHL, right? That means you're obviously pretty damn good at your job."

 

Ryan smiled a little bit weakly, just one side of his mouth quirked up. "Not living up to all the expectations for a number two pick, though," he said, shrugging one shoulder and letting it drop. "My dad is pretty intense about hockey. Always was."

 

Boone couldn't imagine what it must be like. When Boone talked to his parents about going to culinary school, they started researching the best schools and signing tuition checks. They let him cook for them as often as he wanted, even if his early experiments were god awful more often than not. They'd never done anything but cheer him on. He thought that was what parents were supposed to do.

 

"Is he going to be pissed you aren't home now?" 

 

Ryan took a drink of his coffee and rolled his shoulders. "He's probably watching game tape right now. The longer I can delay that conversation, the better."

 

"That sucks, man," Boone offered. He didn't know what else to say, so he went for lightening the mood instead. "I'm sure I could find plenty to keep you busy while they're in town. I can always use a guy who can bench more than my weight for deliveries."

 

"I don't know, I think you're just taking advantage of my kindness now," Ryan teased, arching an eyebrow, his gaze now cleared of the shadow from a moment before. "But I might take you up on it again. We play on the 23rd before we're off for the holiday. I don't want to be home the morning after that game. Win or lose, my dad's going to want to hash it out." 

 

Christmas Eve. Boone could definitely use help on Christmas Eve.

 

"Well now, Christmas Eve would be good. I have two deliveries in the morning, and then I have a late lunch event to prep," Boone was mostly talking to himself here, flipping through the order sheets on file. "If you could help load the vans in the morning for deliveries, I can focus on getting the Fox order completed…"

 

He still had to prepare the actual Christmas dinner for  _ Ryan _ somewhere in all of that too. 

 

"I can help out here once the deliveries are ready to go," Ryan offered, leaning close to Boone to glance at the schedule on his phone. "I'm mostly useless in the kitchen, but I can like, chop vegetables and do dishes." 

 

His arm was pressed against Boone, peeking over Boone's shoulder to look at the Christmas week schedule. He was wearing the same cologne as Boone again. And he was warm, even though only a few minutes before he'd been standing in the refrigerator. It was nice. If Boone leaned a little closer, who could blame him?

 

"God, you  _ really _ don't want to be with your parents, do you?"

 

"I really, really don't."

 

Boone shook his head again, then reluctantly stepped away from Ryan as he heard the front door open. "Well it's Christmas and I have a ton of work to finish, so I won't turn down your desperation. I'll text you the exacts about all of it later today." 

 

"Hey, Jacob's out front with the van…" Katherine breezed into the room, stopping short just inside the door. She looked at Boone, then Ryan, then back at Boone. He knew his ears were red.

 

Dammit. "Oh, hey, that's great. This is Ryan, he's, uh...he's going to help us out with some deliveries for the next week," Ryan stepped forward and offered his hand.

 

"Oh,  _ Ryan _ ," Katherine said, one eyebrow ticking up almost imperceptibly, "I'm Katherine, it's nice to have you around to help." 

 

"I'll start taking some of these boxes out, did you want them in any specific order out there?" Ryan asked, grabbing the first stack. 

 

"Just take them out, Jacob knows how it needs to go. Katherine here can take a few boxes too," Boone started, desperate to get her out of the room. 

 

"Oh no no, boss, I do paperwork, not labor," Katherine said, smirking broadly. "I answer phones and emails, moving boxes isn't in my job description."

 

Ryan chuckled and headed outside, the kitchen door swinging behind him, oblivious to the elephant in the room.

 

"So that was  _ Ryan _ , was it? Ryan Murray perhaps? Who asked about your parents?"

 

Boone busied himself by marking off his checklist, "I'm doing him a favor for Christmas dinner, and he's just helping me out in return. It's nothing."

 

"Right, right," she said patronizingly. "Your ears are always that shade of red when you're meeting with a client, of course. And you definitely introduce clients to your parents whenever possible."

 

Boone needed to find a new assistant. "Look, it's just a Christmas week thing, we're helping each other out with a few things. It's not a big deal."

 

"He looked pretty damn cozy in here, is all I'm saying. You should ask him out."

 

"Look, Kath, I appreciate you trying to play matchmaker, but even if I wasn't way too busy with running this place," Boone motioned at the kitchen around him, "I'm pretty sure he doesn't play for my team anyway."

 

He tried really hard to not sound disappointed about that.


	7. Chapter 7

Ryan tried to tell himself it was nice to see his parents. Tried to tell himself that spending a week with them was a good thing. They'd helped him get to where he is now, his dad had spent a lot of money on equipment and skating lessons and ice time. His mom had gotten up before dawn to take him to practices and hockey camps. He would be an awful son if he didn't appreciate all they'd done for him.

 

But they'd been in town for three days and he was counting down the last five until they left. His dad had gone over his poor game against Vancouver ad nauseum. He'd seen video of each and every one of his mistakes several times over, between his dad and Torts. He just wanted to put it behind him and get ready for the next game.

 

When his phone buzzed just after dinner with a number he didn't recognize, from  _ Ontario _ , Ryan answered it. He normally wouldn't, but it got him out of listening to his dad's take on the Devils' offensive scheme. He excused himself from the living room and took the call in his bedroom instead.

 

"Ryan, darling, it's Terri!" 

 

Ryan was glad she hadn't Facetimed him, because he wasn't entirely sure his eyes had not bugged directly out of his head. Why was Boone's mom calling him? How did Boone's mom even get his number?

 

"Oh, Terri, hello. How are you this evening?" Ryan was nothing if not polite, even if he was currently picking his jaw off of the floor.

 

"Don't say anything to that boyfriend of yours, okay? I snagged your number out of his phone during breakfast this morning, because I wanted to ask for your help with something." 

 

_ That boyfriend of yours.  _ That didn't sound too awful.

 

"What can I do for you?"

 

"Well this place isn't festive at  _ all.  _ Boone is so busy working, he doesn't even have a tree up. So his dad and I were thinking of surprising him tonight. He's working late again, as you know, so it would give us some time, we could at least put up a tree, and maybe a few other things."

 

Ryan glanced back to his father in the living room, picking apart New Jersey's forecheck to give Ryan pointers for their next game.  _ As if he knows what the hell he's talking about,  _ Ryan shook the thought away.

 

"I think that's a wonderful idea, what do you need me to do?"

____

 

Once off the phone with Boone's mom, Ryan convinced his dad that Werenski just needed him for a few hours, really. He'd be much more attentive later on, he swore it, he'd be able to focus on all the plays his dad was pointing out once he helped Zach. He never really said what Zach needed help with, but god dammit, he was tired of having to give his dad excuses for his every move. He didn't need to know any other details.

 

An hour later, Ryan was kneeling in the middle of Boone's living room. Terri had made Christmas cookies, frosted and sugared and most certainly not in line with the nutrition guidelines that Ryan had given to Boone. 

 

Terri had poured each of them a mug of mulled wine when he'd gotten to Boone's place, and his ears were warm from the alcohol. Ryan had taken over detangling a string of lights when Matt started swearing, and Terri patted his arm and thanked him. "He'll tear the whole thing apart before he gets them untangled, thank you, darling." 

 

The culture shock of going from his apartment, somber and heavy with tension, and coming here where there was Christmas music jingling in the background, with Terri singing along, was jarring.

 

"Piece of shit…" Matt muttered as he fitted the top section of the artificial tree into the stand and set to work moving the branches into place. "This is why you should always have a  _ real _ tree."

 

"Oh Matthew, stop, Boone isn't home enough for a real tree. You don't want to burn his place down, do you?"

 

"It's still a piece of shit," Matt grumbled.

 

"It's looking good over there, Matt, I wouldn't worry too much about it. Boone's going to be shocked to have a tree up  _ at all _ ," Ryan said, standing up and holding the now detangled lights. 

 

_ He'll also be shocked to find  _ me _ here, _ Ryan thought, but he pushed it away.

 

Ryan started to string the lights along the tree, taking slow steps around it while Terri helped place them properly on each branch. He whistled along with Nat King Cole and laughed while Matt told stories about Boone's first Christmas dinner he ever tried making.

 

"He forgot to take the gizzards out of the turkey. Cooked the damn thing with the bag inside."

 

Matt and Terri both shared stories about Boone growing up. Some were embarrassing, as any stories from parents will be. But they were all tinted rose, warm with affection. They were proud of their son, and not shy about showing it. 

 

It must be nice.

 

Ryan wasn't sure how much time had passed when he heard a key turn in the front door. Shit. He'd meant to text Boone to warn him about the  _ big surprise _ but he'd gotten caught up in decorating and never bothered.

 

"What the hell?!"

_____

 

"Oh good, Boone, you're home!" his mom exclaimed, but Boone was focused on Ryan. What the hell was Ryan doing in his living room? 

 

"Yeah, I finished up a little earlier than I expected," Boone said distractedly, arching an eyebrow in question at Ryan, who just shrugged sheepishly in return. "What are you all up to?"

 

"Well your father and I decided it just wasn't right that you didn't have a Christmas tree. So this morning when you were making the eggs, I dug through your phone and found Ryan's phone number." 

 

"Mom, you can't just go through my phone!"

 

"I didn't look at any  _ pictures  _ or  _ messages _ or anything, I just found him in your contacts, shush."

 

Oh Christ, his mother thought he and Ryan were exchanging dirty pictures. Or sexting. And while he wouldn't be  _ opposed _ to that idea, it most certainly was not happening. But his mom still didn't need to be going through his phone.

 

"So  _ anyway,  _ I called Ryan tonight and he came right over to help. He even brought an ornament!" She reached over to the tree, tapping a small hockey player in mid-slapshot, the ornament swinging slowly. 

 

"We had a great time, Boone," Ryan chimed in, reassuringly. "Your mom tried getting me drunk on mulled wine."

 

Boone still didn't know how to handle this. God, his parents probably told a ton of embarrassing stories. Whatever minute chance might have been with Ryan was clearly not happening now, not with Boone's mom dragging him over here for decorating and sharing stories of Boone as a dumb kid. Oh god, he hoped they hadn't shown the picture of him at two years old wearing a Santa hat, a Rudolph shirt, and not a damn thing else. He should've burned that picture.

 

"Oh, and we left the best part for last!" his mom dug around in one of the bags strewn along his living room floor next to the tree, and then held up a sprig of mistletoe. Oh hell.

 

He didn't dare glance at Ryan just yet, but he could feel his eyes. Of course his mother would make the mistletoe a big deal. Of course she would.

 

"Come on, you didn't get to do any of the other decorating, but you can at least hang that in the doorway," she fished a Command hook from another of the bags and handed them to Boone. Finally he ventured a glance at Ryan.

 

He was blushing, but keeping a straight face at least. 

 

"Your mother's going to nag you until you do this, Boone," his father warned, and Boone knew he was right.

 

"Okay, I've got it," he took the mistletoe and the hook from his mom. Fortunately he was tall enough to reach the archway leading to the kitchen without a ladder. He held the mistletoe in his teeth as he tugged at the adhesive tab.

 

"Let me help," Ryan finally said, his voice even softer than usual. Maybe a bit deeper. Or maybe that was the ringing in Boone's ears playing tricks on him.

 

He took the hook from Boone and stuck the adhesive to it. He was Boone's height, so he reached the archway just as easily. He was standing close to Boone, too close. His cologne was different tonight. He was wearing a grey zipped hoodie. It looked soft. 

 

Boone should've grabbed a mug of the wine.

 

"Hook's all ready," Ryan confirmed, tugging it once to make sure it would stay in place, and rocked back on his heels. "Your turn now."

 

Right. Mistletoe time. Right. Okay.

 

Boone was pretty sure his pulse was going to pound straight out of his veins. He leaned up on his toes and hung the mistletoe, shifting it twice so it laid evenly. God, he hoped his mom wasn't taking pictures.

 

"That's perfect, boys, thank you! Now everything looks right," his mom declared, beaming. "There's just  _ one  _ more little thing to do…"

 

She wiggled her damn eyebrows at them. He was going to drown himself in royal icing tomorrow.

 

"Mom, it's weird…" he protested weakly, raking a hand through his hair. His face was absolutely burning and he begged for a power outage or a strike of lightning or an earthquake or any kind of distraction. 

 

He glanced at Ryan, who looked positively gleeful at his discomfort, and who was  _ stepping closer. _ He was actually playing along with this part? Boone owed him a lot more than Christmas dinner.

 

"Oh come on, she's not letting us off without a kiss under the mistletoe," Ryan spoke quietly, enough that his parents could hear, but just barely. Boone only just stopped himself from jolting as Ryan's hand found his hip and pulled him closer. "We can give her  _ that _ much, right?"

 

_ You don't have to do this, _ he was trying to tell Ryan without words.  _ It's not part of the deal. _

 

Ryan clearly wasn't a mind-reader and he angled in toward Boone.

 

Boone didn't lean in, but he sure as hell didn't lean away either. He just kind of...let Ryan kiss him.  It was a very parent-approved kiss. Closed mouths, hands above the belt, no tongue. Ryan squeezed his fingers at Boone's waist, the barest hint of pressure, and let out a soft breath that Boone felt on his cheek. Boone rested a hand on his chest, finally meeting him halfway, before Ryan slowly pulled back. 

 

Boone was reeling. Ryan kissed him. Sure it was show for his mom. But they could've gotten away without the kiss. He could've talked his mom out of pushing for it.

 

But Ryan had still kissed him. 

 

"See boys, it wasn't  _ that _ hard, was it?"


	8. Chapter 8

Ryan hadn't kissed another guy in years. Last time was in juniors, and he was pretty sure at least half of the guys who played junior hockey had, at the very least, kissed another guy. Lonely teenage boys, chocked full of hormones, sometimes hundreds or thousands of miles away from home. Kissing happened, making out happened, sometimes it went way farther than that.

 

Most guys left it there because it wasn't necessary anymore. Ryan had left it there because he didn't want to deal with a lecture from his father about being a distraction. It wasn't worth it.

 

But kissing Boone was nice. More than nice. His mouth had been warm, lips a little chapped. Ryan had missed kissing.

 

"Okay, okay, no more mistletoe, but at least let me get a picture of you two with the tree!" Boone's mom interrupted his thoughts.

 

Boone still had a bit of panic in his eyes, and instinctively Ryan reached for his hand and squeezed to reassure him. Boone's hand was clammy, and realizing how nervous he was made Ryan's chest warm. "I think we can handle a picture, right?"

 

Finally Boone's voice worked again. "That's not too much to ask for, no. But  _ a picture _ , not two hundred. And no posing."

 

"I always forget how grumpy you are after work," Terri said, digging her phone from her purse.

 

Left up to Boone, Ryan was pretty sure they'd just be standing awkwardly next to each other, nearly room enough for another person between them, and that wasn't going to be convincing at all. So instead, Ryan snaked his arm around Boone's waist and pulled him in close, so their sides were fit snugly against each other. Boone let out a soft laugh, his cheeks and ears pink, but he returned the gesture with an arm around Ryan's shoulders. 

 

"There we go," Ryan murmured under his breath while Boone's mom was still distracted. "Now we look believable."

 

Boone ducked his head and nodded, hesitating a moment before fully leaning into Ryan's side. "Thanks," he said softly, a sheepish smile curling his lips.

 

"Look at you two, that's perfect. Smile nice!" Terri took a couple of pictures and set her phone aside. "This place looks so much more festive now, thank you for helping, Ryan."

 

It had been a welcome distraction, really. It was much nicer to be here with Boone's family than at home with his own. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I wouldn't help put up his tree?"

 

Boone was watching him curiously, the flush of his cheeks finally lightening. Ryan mostly wanted to spend the rest of the night here, drinking mulled wine and listening to Christmas music, telling stories and arguing over where the ornaments should hang on the tree.

 

It was getting late, though. West coast games would be starting soon. His dad would want to run through them, especially since Vancouver was playing again. 

 

"This was wonderful, but I should probably head back home. I have some things to do tomorrow, and I'm sure Boone here wants to sleep as much as he can," Ryan said, genuinely disappointed as he handed his empty mug off to Matt. "Thanks for inviting me over, Terri, I think we did a pretty bang up job on the tree."

 

"I hope we get to see you again before we go home, Ryan. If not, Merry Christmas, darling, thank you for taking such good care of our Boone," she gave him a hug and kissed his cheek. Ryan felt terrible for deceiving her.

 

"Let me walk you out," Boone said, pulling on his jacket while Ryan did the same.

 

They were halfway down the hall before Ryan finally spoke. "Sorry about the big shock of me being here tonight, but your mom called out of the blue and asked, and I couldn't come up with a good reason to tell her no. And really, 'I'm going to sit here and listen to my dad tell me what a crappy defenseman I am' isn't a good excuse."

 

Boone laughed and raked a hand through his hair. "God, don't apologize, I'm sorry my mom called you like that. I still can't believe she went through my phone."

 

"I was going to warn you about it, I swear," Ryan said as he stepped onto the elevator, grimacing. "But then your dad was cursing at the tree and the lights and I got distracted."

 

"God, yeah, my dad hates decorating as much as my mom loves it," Boone leaned against the wall of the elevator, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. "But...thank you. You didn't have to hang out with my parents tonight."

 

"Don't mention it," Ryan answered honestly. "It was a nice break from my place. Dad's got his scouting cap on, he'll be starting on his second game of the night once I get home. I've got at least an hour of play-by-play breakdown ahead of me."

 

"It's Christmas, man, can't he give it a break?" Boone muttered, his brow tight. "I don't mean to overstep my bounds here, but it seems like a shitty way to spend a holiday."

 

Ryan let out a sigh as he walked toward his car. The chill outside felt good on his skin. "It is a shitty way to spend a holiday. But this is all the holiday I really know. Dad had me skating on Christmas mornings as soon as we finished opening presents."

Boone just shook his head, jaw clenched tight. "No wonder you're so happy to get away from them."

 

"If it was weird, me hanging out with your parents, I'm really sorry," Ryan said as they got to his car. "But it was nice all the same. I had a good time. I know they drive you nuts, but they're really great."

 

It was snowing outside, just a little bit. Tiny flakes that were catching in Boone's dark hair, along the shoulders of his coat. Ryan wanted to kiss him again, just to see if he was as uncomfortable with it here, away from an audience. But that was most certainly a bad idea. Wasn't it?

 

"Mom is overbearing, but I know it comes from a good place. She just doesn't want me over here alone all the time. So she gets....overzealous." Boone said, his cheeks pink again. "I couldn't believe she pulled out the mistletoe..." His voice trailed off and he grimaced, rubbing a hand over his face. "Sorry about that, I should have tried to talk her out of it more."

 

Ryan leaned against his truck and watched Boone, amused. "It wasn't that big of a deal, you know? She thinks we've been together for a year, we would've kissed before. We couldn't  _ not _ do it, it would've been way more awkward."

 

"Well, um, thank you. I think she bought it," Boone said, tugging his ear, looking at anything but Ryan.

 

"I mean, I'd  _ hope _ I can kiss convincingly," Ryan said with a smirk, "I'm probably better without an audience, though."

 

Boone coughed at that, his eyes widening for just a moment before his features smoothed again. He was still flushed from his collar to the tips of his ears. Maybe it was the cold? But maybe not. "Well yeah, kissing is better when no one's watching."

 

Ryan pushed away from the car and stepped closer to Boone. "Definitely much better that way," he said softly. He'd already kissed him once, might as well try for part two, right?

 

But at that moment his phone rang. The tone burst through the stillness of the cool evening around them and ruined whatever mood they'd had, and Ryan stepped back again. 

 

"That'll be my dad," he said, knowing without even glancing at the screen. "I should go."

 

Boone let out a huff of breath, as if he'd been holding it. "God, yeah, sorry, I don't want you dealing with worse from him. I'll just head back upstairs. I'll still see you in a couple of days for Christmas Eve?" He sounded like he genuinely wasn't sure.

"I'll be there, bright and early and with coffee in hand. I already told my dad it was a charity thing for the team," Ryan opened the door and climbed into his truck. "Go get some of the wine before your parents finish the pot. I'll see you in a couple of days, Boone."

 

Reprieve over, Ryan started his car and headed toward home. As expected, his dad was annoyed that he'd taken so long to get back. He had DVRed the Devils game and went through it period by period, play by play. "You really need to keep an eye on Hall, Ryan. He's got far better foot speed than you, he'll leave you behind if you're not paying attention."

 

Ryan was pretty well practiced at pretending to listen to his dad talk. Some nights his mind drifted to a song he was trying to learn on the guitar, or how to beat Jonesy at Madden. Tonight while he was nodding along fake attentively to his dad, he instead thought about Boone and what would've happened if the phone call hadn't interrupted them.

 

He wondered if Boone would've kissed him back this time.

____

 

Ryan was going to kiss him again. Boone wasn't positive of a lot of things in life, and most certainly not where his (lack of) romantic prospects were concerned. But if Ryan's phone hadn't gone off at the  _ worst possible moment, Christ _ , Ryan would've kissed him again.

 

Boone really hated Ryan's father in that moment. To be fair, Boone didn't care for Ryan's father at any moment, because he seemed like a pretty crappy dad. He didn't want to say as much to Ryan, because that would probably be crossing some kind of a line, but he was thinking it the whole time Ryan talked.

 

Okay, that wasn't the only thing he thought of while Ryan talked. He was also distracted by his eyes. And the way his mouth moved. Wondering if his stubble was rough or soft.

 

He had it bad.

 

Boone took his time going back upstairs, but once he got there, he took a moment to really look at the tree his parents and Ryan had put up. He tapped the hockey player ornament Ryan had brought and smiled. It was a nice gesture. 

 

"Boone, honey, I sent you the picture of you and Ryan, it turned out so nice," his mom kissed his cheek and made her way to the guest room. "Your dad and I are turning in for the night, there's some wine left in the pot on the stove."

 

Boone poured himself the rest of the mulled wine, the spiced alcohol warming his insides as he sipped it. He propped his feet on the coffee table and stared at the tree, then glanced at his phone, message from his mom waiting. The picture with Ryan had indeed turned out pretty well, if you ignored Boone's tight smile.

 

He sent it to Ryan anyway.

 

_ We make a decent fake couple, eh? _


	9. Chapter 9

"Feeling festive this morning, Murr?" Ryan jumped as Zach Werenski sat next to him. 

 

"What do you mean?" he hadn't realized anyone else was in the room with him at the moment, most of his teammates skipped the optional skate on game days.

 

"Buddy, you're humming  _ The Christmas Song _ ," Zach smirked at him, sitting down in the stall next to his and pulling out a roll of stick tape. 

 

"I was doing some decorating last night. You know parents, gotta have the Christmas music going," Ryan said, conveniently leaving out that it wasn't  _ his _ parents he was decorating with. Z didn't need to know that. "Now it's stuck in my head."

 

"You're in a pretty good mood today, did your dad cool it on his crusade to turn you into Bobby Orr?"

 

Ryan grimaced, ducking his head as he tugged tape from around his shinpads. "Not quite, but I got a little break from it last night anyway. I'm sure I'll get a replay of it after the game tonight."

 

If it wasn't already bad enough to have his dad criticize his every play, he all too often would compliment Ryan's teammates instead, while Ryan stood next to them. After their last game, he made sure Zach knew how well he'd handled the Canucks' second line forecheck, while also lamenting Ryan's inability to manage it. Tonight, Ryan was going to try to meet his parents in the corridor closer to the parking lot to avoid any similar interaction.

 

"Only a couple more days and they'll go home, eh?" Zach offered, though Ryan knew Zach wasn't nearly so excited to see his own family leave. 

 

"Just gotta get through tonight and we'll be set," Ryan said, heading for the shower. He didn't mention having to get through the game breakdown afterward. He wanted to forget that part himself.

 

____

 

The Devils game went better than the last. Ryan wasn't responsible for any major gaffes, at least, and the Blue Jackets won, though Ryan didn't necessarily contribute to any of their three goals either. Maybe he'd get a Christmas miracle and his dad wouldn't rake him over the coals too badly.

 

"Well you didn't get a minus tonight anyway, so it's better than the other night," Ryan was just barely in earshot of his parents when his dad started. So much for miracles.

 

"Dad, you've been here for four days and I haven't had an hour without game breakdowns, can we just give it a rest?" 

 

Ryan wasn't sure who was more surprised by his protest, himself or his father. Even his mother's eyes were wide.

 

"Excuse me, I suppose I'm the only one here who cares about your career," his father muttered, but he didn't say anything else. The drive home was silent and awkward, but Ryan was fine with that if it meant he got out of a mistake by mistake replay of his game.

 

With hockey off-limits, it didn't seem like Ryan's dad really knew what to say. His mom filled the silence with questions about teammates, their wives and children. Ryan knew that this was a brief break from the norm, but he would take what he could get. And tomorrow he only had to handle the evening with his parents, since he would be helping Boone all day. 

 

He hadn't let himself think about Boone today, not since he got the message from him the night before, the picture of the two of them standing by the tree. Boone's mom had captured them in the moment before they were really smiling for the picture, Ryan was grinning at Boone and Boone was returning it the same, his cheeks flushed pink. He thought for a brief moment about making it the wallpaper on his phone, but realized that wasn't necessarily wise. Though his mother was highly unlikely to ever go through  _ his _ phone.

 

Besides, this would all be over after Christmas. No use in getting too attached.

 

____

 

Boone was the first one to arrive on Christmas Eve morning, and it wasn't even close. It was still dark outside as he stood in the kitchen, creating piles full of uniformly chopped onions, celery, carrots. He had several turkeys pulled out of the fridge, thawed and coming to room temperature. Pies were already finished, most of the appetizers were already prepped. He was running on autopilot when the bell on the front door chimed.

 

Ryan walked into the room, two coffee cups in hand, and glanced around, his eyes going wide, "How the hell long have you been here? Why didn't you ask me to come sooner?"

 

"I couldn't sleep anyway, so I figured I'd get prep going. Is anyone else here?"

 

"Jacob was pulling in behind me, so we can get the first delivery all packed up," Ryan answered, shrugging his coat off and pulling the knit cap from his head. His short hair stuck up all over, and Boone wanted to fix it, but he had too much to do to get distracted by Ryan Murray's hair. 

 

He paused and glanced around the kitchen, doing mental inventory of all the steps he'd already finished and all the steps he still had to complete. It would be a long day, but worth it. "I printed out checklists for each of the deliveries this morning, Katherine can help with those when she gets in and I'll do a last check of everything.Then I'm going to get the stuffing ready for the birds, I'll need leeks and celery rough-chopped for those, I'll get you to help with that, and you can peel some of the other stuff before I need it..." 

 

Boone always did this when he was stressed. He rambled. He was pretty sure Ryan didn't care about his schedule for the day, but he was running over all of it anyway. Ryan took the checklists and looked them over, chewing his lip, then nodded once. 

 

"Okay, so you just keep doing what you're doing, and Katherine and I will make sure all of this is ready when you're good to look it over," Ryan said as he made his way toward the walk-in refrigerator.

 

Just at that moment, Katherine strolled in, mid-yawn, "Alright, boss, we've got this. Stop freaking out, keep chopping."

 

The next half hour was a flurry of action, boxes getting stacked along one wall, the next set of boxes along the other wall; Katherine and Ryan checked their list, and then Boone double-checked before they all got loaded onto the vans.  All the morning deliveries sent out, Katherine went back to her post at the front desk and Boone went back to prepping the evening orders. 

 

Ryan fit in seamlessly, as Boone finished chopping the first set of vegetables for the mirepoix and started the saute pan on the flame, Ryan took over to peel potatoes and carrots. He cleaned up behind Boone as he cooked, grabbed dirty knives and cutting boards and scrubbed them down. He didn't need much direction, he mostly just stayed out of Boone's way. He was the perfect sous chef. 

 

"If you decide to give up on the hockey thing, I could always use a hand in the kitchen," Boone said later--might have been twenty minutes, might have been three hours, he always lost track of time when he was cooking.

 

Ryan laughed as he wiped his hands on a dish towel. "I can only imagine how that conversation would go, breaking it to my dad I was retiring from hockey to wash dishes. He might actually disown me."

 

"You were doing more than just washing dishes! And besides, everyone's important in the kitchen," Boone said, sliding the last turkey into the oven to roast. He grabbed the carrots Ryan had peeled and started to chop the ends, saving the leafy tops to use for stock later. "It would definitely be less stressful."

 

Ryan smirked and raised an eyebrow, reaching over to dab his towel over Boone's forehead. "Yeah, I can see that, you're sweating for no good reason, eh?"

 

The gesture was familiar, affectionate. Boone was glad for the ovens, it covered him for his warming cheeks. "Well okay, there are some stressful moments. But I love it."

 

Ryan leaned against the counter, watching Boone slice the carrots, "It shows. I'm going to have to ask for recipes," Ryan paused, a smirk curling his lips, "and probably cooking lessons. Even with a recipe I'd probably find a way to ruin it."

 

"Just because my mom loves you doesn't mean you get free cooking lessons, buddy," Boone said, glancing up at Ryan through his lashes, grinning broadly. "I need more than a hockey player ornament for that."

 

"I'm sure I could hang out with your parents again before they leave, you know," Ryan winked, wiggling his eyebrows. "We could go to the zoo to see the lights." 

 

Boone paused his slicing and crossed his arms over his chest. "Your parents are still here too, you can't blow them off." 

 

"They leave the morning after Christmas, and your mom said they aren't leaving until Friday, so we could go  _ after _ the holiday," Ryan seemed to be calling his bluff. If Ryan thought he'd turn down a chance to spend more time together, he was sorely mistaken.

 

"Fine, one zoo date with my parents and I'll give you two cooking lessons," Boone countered, extending a hand to seal the deal. 

 

Ryan clasped his hand and shook it firmly. He might have let his thumb drift over the back for a moment too long, but Boone might also have been reading too much into it. "You've got a deal, Mr. Jenner." 

 

____

 

The grey sky hanging over Columbus was already starting to darken by the time Boone and Ryan finished loading the last of the deliveries onto the van. Ryan was lingering, because he didn't really want to go home yet. It had been the best Christmas Eve in a long time.

 

"Hey, Ry, hold on. I know we agreed on just Christmas dinner, but I knew you'd need something tonight," Boone said, handing a box full of food to Ryan once he was bundled up to leave. "It's not too much, roasted potatoes and sliced ham, some apple-cranberry glaze to go over the top. You just have to pop it all in the oven. It's pretty close to your menu, hopefully your dad won't say too much."

 

Ryan was shocked, he'd been planning to find somewhere to get takeout, he already had the Grubhub app open on his phone. "You didn't have to do all of this, you were already helping me out."

 

"You helped me a lot today," Boone said, fidgeting with his jacket collar. "And you helped with the tree at home. You earned it. For tomorrow, I'll bring your dinner by in the morning on my way to drop off my last Christmas deliveries, okay? Figure I'll be there around nine, yeah?"

 

"I could come and get it," Ryan offered, mostly because he didn't want to risk his father meeting Boone. God only knew how that might go. He didn't want his dad to be awful to Boone. He really liked Boone. More than he should.

 

"Just text me your address, eh? No need for both of us to be out on Christmas." 

 

Ryan nodded and texted the address, then smiled sheepishly. "If you're sure, Boone, thanks."

 

"Don't mention it," Boone said, giving him a lopsided smile. "Try to have a good Christmas Eve, Ryan."


	10. Chapter 10

After stopping his dad the night before, Ryan was expecting to be sat down for a full night of game video once he got home after leaving Boone and his parents. His mother would try to stop him, "Come on, honey, it's Christmas Eve, let's watch The Grinch."

 

Even the Grinch had more Christmas spirit than his dad.

 

"We'll go over the game after we have dinner, I brought good stuff," Ryan said when his dad queued up the video. "You're only here for two more days, let's have a couple of good family dinners, eh guys?"

 

Ryan's dad was clearly frustrated, but his mom was thrilled, and so he knew he had won himself at least another hour. His condo filled with the smell of Boone's cooking and he opened a bottle of white wine. He wondered if that was the right thing to pair with the ham, but he didn't want to nag Boone. He was nice enough to make the extra meal for him already.

 

Ryan wasn't sure of the last time he actually set the table in his apartment. They usually did takeout and watched game video on holidays; there wasn't any need for a formal table. But he wanted a real holiday dinner this time.

 

He didn't have fancy dishes, just basic white plates and simple wine glasses. It didn't look like the gourmet dinner at Boone's had looked, but it smelled incredible at least.

 

It tasted as good as it smelled. For a while, it felt like a normal Christmas Eve with a normal family, Ryan had even put a Christmas playlist on to play softly in the background. He wished he had a tree up. His mom gushed about the dinner, and Ryan beamed with pride, even though he hadn't made it. But Boone had made it, and Boone deserved all the compliments.

 

Ryan was digging in for seconds before the spell was broken. "That's a lot of carbs, Ry, you should probably skip another serving of the potatoes."

 

He took a deep breath and let it out slow, gripping the serving spoon too tight. "It's just roasted potatoes, I can handle it. I'll do an extra 30 on the bike when we get back to the rink."

 

"Your skating lags as it is, you don't need to be carrying extra pounds too."

 

Only his father could make him lose his appetite for a meal this good. "Right, of course. No days off, right dad?" He took the dish from the table and put it away for later. Not worth the argument, he told himself. 

 

"Let me clear the table, you brought dinner home," his mother said, patting his hand when he came back in. He'd been counting on the cleanup time to mentally prepare for game footage. But she was eager to help, and he appreciated her attempts to make this feel like a normal holiday.

 

He refilled his glass of wine and finished half of it before he met his dad in the living room. "Finally," his father said, tapping the remote to start the video of the game. "Right here, see how you passed the puck toward Foligno? He wasn't in a spot to take that pass, that's why it got picked off. You should be banking that off the glass to clear it."

 

Ryan nodded along mutely, nursing his wine. He clenched his teeth, felt the muscle in his jaw tic. If he tipped it off the glass there, Henrique would've plastered Atkinson into the boards and the Devils would've had a three on two. It was easy to critique plays from above when you hadn't played any actual hockey in over 20 years. Even easier when you had no idea what it was like to play against National Hockey League players. 

 

"Are you even listening to me right now? I asked why you thought you needed to take the puck back behind the net there? The Devils were on a line change, if you'd started the breakout you might have caught them on it."

 

"Well we were also in the middle of a line change, if I'd passed it up too quick, we would've gotten a Too Many Men call," Ryan said, monotone. 

 

"What the hell has gotten into you? You've been distracted this entire trip, and if you're not distracted, you're being a smartass."

 

"It's  _ Christmas,  _ Dad. Can't we just have Christmas like normal families have Christmas?"

 

"You know real winners don't…"

 

"Don't take days off, right, you always say that. It's crap. Everyone takes days off."

 

"This is your career we're talking about, it's no skin off my back if you fail," his father spat, tossing the remote down onto the coffee table. 

 

"I'm going to bed, alright? Turn the TV off when you're done."

____

 

The snow outside wasn't the only reason it was chilly in Ryan's condo the next morning.

 

Ryan's mom wasn't speaking much, just offering sheepish smiles to him and talking in a soft voice to Ryan's dad. Even though Boone was spending the early morning making deliveries, Ryan couldn't imagine Christmas morning was anything like this at his place. Boone's mom probably baked something fattening and delicious for him to take on the road. They probably woke up early to open presents. Ryan got a few gift cards and his mom gave him new scarf and matching gloves. It took less than five minutes to open everything, and his father barely muttered a full sentence.

 

Right on cue, at 9:02 am, his phone buzzed. 

 

_ I'm parked outside, buzz me in. Forgot the directions, I'll set it up. _

 

Shit, no. He really didn't want Boone in here right now, with the tension thick and stifling. This wasn't any kind of Christmas morning he wanted to share with anyone.

 

_ I can just come down _

 

A moment later his phone rang, Ryan jumped in surprise and answered it. "Yeah?"

 

"I've already got everything out, just buzz me in, eh? These packages are precariously stacked right now."

 

Ryan hit the button to let him in and hung up his cell. "I'll be right back, guys, going to help get dinner inside."

 

He slipped outside before he had a moment to think about the fact that he was only wearing thermal pajama pants and a thin hoodie.  _ Not quite dressed to impress here, Murray _ .

 

"Jesus Christ, there are three of us! What did you bring?" Ryan asked when he saw the armful of foil packages Boone was carrying. He trotted forward to take the top few to help. 

 

"Well you need sides and dessert too, it's Christmas dinner," Boone said, stepping off the elevator. "If you aren't too full, you didn't celebrate it right."

 

"Look, it's...been a rough morning. So it's going to be awkward in there," Ryan warned, grimacing. "Dad and I had it out last night and he's not really...talking much now."

 

Boone frowned, following Ryan down the hall toward his place. "I'm sorry, man, I was hoping it would go better than that."

 

"It's never that easy with my dad," Ryan said with a sigh, pausing as they reached his door. He gave a weak smile and took a breath, "Here goes."

 

He pushed the door open, holding it for Boone. "Kitchen's right this way." 

 

His place was devoid of any of the cheery decoration he'd helped cover Boone's apartment in, and it looked bare. It fit the somber mood quite well.

 

Boone chuckled as he followed, "You're killing me, Ry. Look at this kitchen, and I bet you barely do more than boil pasta in it."

 

Ryan laughed sheepishly, cheeks flushing. "Hey, I can bake chicken and roast vegetables too, give me a break here."

 

"That barely even counts as cooking!" Boone shook his head as he set the packages down on the counter, then shifted to put them in order. "I'll try to make this easy for you. These all need to go in the oven at 350, just at different times. The pie you can leave at room temp, and if you ruin it with Cool Whip, I'm never speaking to you again."

 

"I told you, I can handle putting stuff in the oven, give me a  _ little _ bit of credit," Ryan said, grabbing a marker and handing it to Boone. "Write down how long each thing needs so I know what to put in when, I'm pretty sure I can manage to tell time."

 

"I'm not sure about that, you're a complete beginner," Boone said as he wrote, glancing up at Ryan every few moments, grinning broadly. It was a nice smile. For the first time all day, Ryan was feeling better.

 

"Well that's why you're giving me lessons, right?"

 

Ryan hadn't noticed his father standing in the doorway of the kitchen, waiting to refill his coffee. "What the hell are you wasting your time with cooking lessons for, Ryan?"

 

Shit.


	11. Chapter 11

Boone knew something was wrong as soon as he saw Ryan in the hallway. He didn't have much of a poker face, and his brow was knotted, his jaw clenched in a tight line. All Boone wanted to do was make him smile for a few minutes.

 

He wasn't entirely shocked that Ryan's dad would ruin the moment, but he thought he would've at least waited until Boone left. 

 

"You don't need cooking lessons, your nutritionist gives you meal plans. You can cook chicken and salmon, you know how to make pasta. And if you need anything else, you can just hire a service to cook them, like this guy," he motioned at Boone, a dismissive wave of his hand. 

 

"Dad, Boone is an expertly trained chef, he's not going to be making my boring chicken and steamed veggie and brown rice dinners."

 

"Your time can be used better elsewhere, working with that skating coach I recommended, or going over game tape," his dad said, rolling his eyes. "If this guy won't do it, someone else will do it. He's just a  _ cook _ anyway."

 

It wasn't the first time someone had devalued Boone's career. It wouldn't be the last. It always stung, but he hadn't started the day with a high opinion of Ryan's father, so it didn't have much farther south to go. Boone just kept marking the packages so Ryan knew how to reheat them. 

 

Boone had never seen Ryan angry. His eyes flashed with it, and in an instant his whole demeanor changed. "Oh for god's sake, Dad. He's trained under gourmet chefs. He runs his own business. He works damn hard for this, it's not easy. Don't talk down on  _ him _ because you're pissed off at  _ me. _ "

 

"It's just a waste of time, and it's not like you don't already have plenty to work on."

 

" _ Stop, _ " Ryan interrupted, holding a hand up. He was gripping the edge of the counter with his other hand, knuckles white. "I'm so damn  _ exhausted _ by all of this. You're not my coach. I have actual coaches, you know that? Coaches who  _ actually know  _ what they're talking about. You never got out of a beer league back home, and now you spend all your time poring over my game footage to tell me how wrong I am all the time." 

 

Boone was just barely fighting off a smile.  _ It's about damn time _ , he thought, fidgeting with the last container. He should excuse himself, but he didn't want to leave Ryan on his own to deal with this either.

 

"How  _ dare _ you act like what Boone does isn't hard work, when your entire being consists of living vicariously through me? I've known him for a couple of weeks and he's been more supportive than you have ever been."

 

Ryan was pacing the kitchen now, ramping up, a dam breaking loose after years of staying quiet. "And if I want to  _ waste my time _ cooking, what does it matter to you? Shouldn't I take control of what I'm putting in my body, dad? Isn't that what  _ winners _ do?"

 

"Ryan, I've been watching you since you were two years old," Ryan's father interjected, face red with anger. "I know what's best for you, if you'd just shut up and listen."

 

"I've been doing that for 25 years," Ryan snorted, rolling his eyes. "All it's gotten me is a whole lot of resentment and even more anxiety. I think I should start listening to someone else."

 

Boone really had to go. He still had other deliveries to make. But abandoning Ryan seemed like a terrible idea.

 

"Uh, Ryan?" he spoke softly during a pause in the argument. "I should probably get out of here…"

 

Ryan glanced over, almost like he'd forgotten Boone was standing there. His brow smoothed out and he shook his head. "Oh god, right, I'm sorry, you have deliveries."

 

"Just a few more, yeah," Boone was still speaking quietly in the uncomfortable silence. Ryan's father was gripping his coffee cup hard enough to crush it, and his mother was standing just outside of the kitchen, knitting needles moving slowly as she looked back and forth between her son and husband.

 

Ryan looked down at himself, then up at Boone. "Give me five minutes, I'll help with the deliveries. I need a break." 

 

Boone didn't get a chance to argue, Ryan was already darting down the hall, presumably to his bedroom. He emerged a few minutes later in jeans and a sweater. Boone almost liked the pajamas and hoodie better. He'd looked soft. Warm.

 

"I'll be home in time to get dinner going," Ryan said, grabbing his keys and striding for the door. 

 

"Um, enjoy the dinner. I'm Boone, by the way, it was, uh, nice to meet you both," he nodded at both Ryan's father, who ignored him, and his mother, who gave him a weak smile, before he followed Ryan outside.

 

Ryan was muttering to himself as he punched the button for the elevator, shaking his head. "Fuck, I'm sorry for all of that," he said when Boone came to stand next to him. 

 

Boone just shrugged a shoulder, "People look down on my work all the time, it's not a big deal. I usually don't get such a defense."

 

"Well I was  _ in _ that kitchen with you, I saw how much work it is. It's bullshit for him to treat you that way, he doesn't even  _ know _ you," Ryan shook his head again, his jaw clenched even tighter than before.

 

"You were probably nicer to him than he deserved," Boone said as they stepped onto the elevator. "If that's what he's like all the time, I don't know how you've put up with it this long."

 

"I shouldn't have snapped, but when he insulted you, it was the last straw."

 

Boone was pretty sure that meant something, but this sure as hell wasn't the moment to try to figure it out. "I appreciated it, Ry. Thank you."

 

Ryan paused at the door of his building. "God, you don't need me tagging along on these deliveries, and you probably have to get home afterward. I'll just go for a drive, you don't need to take care of me."

 

"Don't worry about it, get in. It'll get your mind off of all of that." Boone grinned as they walked to his truck, reaching out to squeeze Ryan's bicep. "I told you, I can always use some extra muscle."

____

 

Ryan's blood was still rushing in his ears as Boone drove them away from his building. He'd never lost his temper like that with his father. He'd rarely lost his temper like that off the ice period. But when his dad had called Boone  _ just a cook _ with such disdain, he'd snapped.

 

Years of anger bubbled to the surface and he couldn't stop himself. His hands were shaking still. But he felt better nonetheless. He'd been biting his tongue for so long, it was good to get it out.

 

"This first delivery is quick, just three large trays. If you want to carry those in, I'll meet with the host. We'll be in and out in under twenty minutes," Boone explained, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as they sat at a red light.

 

It was soothing, just sitting in the car with Boone. There were precious few other cars on the road, most people opening gifts and eating big Christmas morning breakfasts. Ryan didn't really know what that felt like. He'd always gotten new hockey gear for every holiday, and his dad insisted that he tested it all out immediately. Had to break in the new skates, the new pads, had to tape up the new stick. 

 

Driving around with Boone was a far more festive option.

 

The first delivery of the day was to a very large house in a very ritzy part of town. Ryan wasn't thinking anything of it until he followed Boone inside and the host's eyes went wide. "Well this is some kind of service, Mr. Jenner, you brought an actual Blue Jacket with you for our delivery?"

 

Ryan hadn't thought about the possibility of someone recognizing him today. The host's wife came to the door, smiling broadly and leading Ryan into the kitchen. 

 

Boone and the host came after, signing off on the paperwork. "How did you manage this one? I didn't think a player delivering Christmas dinner was included in my season ticket package."

 

"Sorry to say, the Blue Jackets had nothing to do with this," Boone assured him, amused at all the attention Ryan was getting.

 

"Oh, it's nothing that interesting, Boone here is a friend of mine," Ryan explained, "and he needed some help because he gave his staff the holiday off. I offered to help out."

 

Ryan grinned sheepishly at Boone as the family brought him a jersey to sign, then asked for pictures, and finally he had a phone shoved at him. "My daughter, she moved for work, can you leave her a message on her voicemail?"

 

He did his best to fill their requests, but after a few minutes he held up a hand. "I'm sorry to cut this short, everyone, but Boone has a schedule to keep, and I came along to help out, not ruin his day. Have a wonderful Christmas, we'll try to get you guys some more wins for the holidays."

 

"I'm pretty sure you were the best Christmas present they got this year," Boone said on the walk back to his truck, visibly amused.

 

"I didn't expect anyone to  _ recognize _ me during this," Ryan grimaced, climbing in on his side of the car. "I hope I didn't screw up the schedule."

 

"We're still on time, big shot, don't worry," Boone started the car and headed for the next address on his list.

 

The other deliveries went without a hitch, Boone had everything running on schedule to perfection. They were finished just a few minutes past noon. Ryan didn't want to go home.

 

As if reading his mind, Boone broke the amiable silence. "Hey, my mom baked cinnamon orange scones this morning, why don't you stop over and have one before I take you back?"

 

"That would be great," Ryan let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Thanks."

 

Halfway back to Boone's place, Ryan had a thought. "Shit, I should bring your parents a gift."

 

"Wait, what?" Boone asked, incredulous.

 

"If we've been dating for a year, I should get your parents a gift," Ryan explained, wracking his brain. Nothing would be open, it was noon on Christmas day. "I'd be the worst boyfriend if I didn't bring your parents anything for Christmas."

 

"Ryan, my parents don't need anything," Boone said, amused. "If you show up for a few minutes on Christmas day and ask them to go to Wildlights at the zoo, that's the best present you could give my mom. Believe me."

 

Ryan sighed and shook his head. "If you're sure."

 

"I know my mother, she'll be more excited to see you than if Santa himself walked in the door."


	12. Chapter 12

Boone knew Ryan was mostly just avoiding his father, but he wasn't going to turn it down, spending a little extra time with him on Christmas. He didn't bother warning his parents that he was bringing Ryan home, his mom would love the surprise. When they got to his apartment, the whole place smelled of cinnamon, and his mom had carols turned up way too loud.

 

"Oh good, you're back already," his mom said as she came into the living room, drying her hands on a dish towel, eyes lighting up as soon as she saw Ryan trailing behind him. "And look who came with you!"

 

She came over to hug Ryan, who returned the gesture without hesitation. "Merry Christmas, Terri. I was promised scones, and they smell wonderful."

 

"Oh of course, come on in. I'll start a fresh pot of coffee," she busied herself in the kitchen, bustling from sink to coffeepot and then oven. "Let me warm these up, Boone didn't even tell us you were coming today!"

 

"It wasn't planned, he wasn't expecting to have help with the deliveries either," Ryan shook his head and grabbed for one of the scones. "Don't worry about heating them, they look great as is. Relax, Terri, I'm just hanging out."

 

Ryan leaned against the counter and chewed thoughtfully while Terri talked, explaining the recipe to him. It would be lost on Ryan, Boone realized, but he listened as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. Gone was the jaw tight with rage, shoulders knotted with anxiety, now Ryan was relaxed, chuckling as his mother cracked a joke. He fit in better here than in his own home.

 

As much as he knew it was a sad thought, he couldn't help but be pleased. He liked having Ryan here. He didn't want the holidays to end and go back to real life without him.

 

"I know you're still in town for a couple of days after this, so I was talking to Boone, and I think we should all head out to the zoo," Ryan was still talking with his mom, ignoring Boone completely. "They do a great Christmas display with Wildlights, has he ever taken you for it?"

 

"We've always talked about it but we never went," his mom said, excitement evident in her voice. "That would be wonderful if we could all go together!"

 

"So it's a date then," Ryan said, holding up his coffee in a toast. "I'll stop by here tomorrow around 5 and we'll go. Bundle up, it'll be cold." 

 

"How did you keep him to yourself so long, Boone?" his mom asked, watching Ryan fondly.

 

Boone had first felt the niggling pangs of guilt along the back of his neck early in the week and they had only gotten worse. Ryan was so good at standing in as a fake boyfriend that his mother was going to be crushed when he had to fake break up with him. When he had to tell her a few weeks down the road that they'd just decided to be friends, that they were both just too busy to keep it up...she was going to be devastated. Boone was pretty sure she was already planning Ryan's Easter basket. She'd already asked when his birthday was.

 

She was attached already, and the thought of her disappointment when Boone told her he wasn't with Ryan anymore was heavy on his shoulders. But then, he was already disappointed about that himself.

 

It was too late to change the zoo plans, but after that, he would try to keep Ryan away. There was no sense in letting his mother grow even more fond of him. No sense in hurting all of them more than he already had. 

 

But for the next couple of days, he was going to enjoy the moment.

____

 

Ryan had to go home eventually, he thought as he stood in Boone's kitchen, swirling the last sips of coffee in his mug to redistribute the cream. He just really didn't want to. It was better here, with Boone's dad in the living room tinkering with the Kindle he'd gotten for Christmas, muttering curses here and there, his mom telling stories about 10 year old Boone helping her bake cookies to take to his grandparents, with Boone blushing and asking her to stop being embarrassing. 

 

Ryan had never had a Christmas like this, but he's pretty sure this was what it was supposed to be like, not the awkward, stiff affair he had every year with his parents. He hadn't ever really given it much thought, that was just his family, his dad was strict. But now watching how Boone's family interacted, how his parents supported him, Ryan felt  _ cheated _ . He never had this kind of support. He was pretty sure he never would.

 

"Mom, I'm going to disinvite you from the zoo tomorrow, if you're just going to embarrass me with old stories all day," Boone groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

 

"They're not embarrassing," Ryan protested, grinning broadly. "They're cute. And besides,  _ I _ invited her, you aren't allowed to take it back."

 

"You only want her around because she thinks you're cute, buddy," Boone countered, arching an eyebrow challengingly.

 

Ryan smirked and finished the last of his coffee, then winked at Terri. "Must run in the family."

 

Boone's mom was delighted, she clearly wasn't bothered by her son flirting in front of her. Ryan could only imagine how his parents would react. His mom would go back to knitting. His father would bitch that a boyfriend was a distraction.

A fresh wave of bitterness swept over Ryan, and he pushed it down. He would deal with that later. He wanted to enjoy this as long as it lasted.

 

"Okay boys, move out of here, I want to start on dinner, and Boone isn't allowed in the kitchen for this, he's off the rest of the day," Terri shooed the two of them from the kitchen, nudging them into the living room, where a distracted Matt jumped to attention. "But Dad here is on chopping duty, stop playing with your new toy."

 

"The damn thing is going to take me a month to figure out anyway," he said, dropping the tablet on the chair as he stood.

 

"Sit and rest a while, I promise we'll leave you alone," Terri swore, motioning for the couch before turning and heading back to the kitchen. Ryan didn't bother to argue, he didn't think she'd hear any of it anyway.

 

Boone sat next to him--a solid foot of space between them on the couch, and Ryan glanced at him, an eyebrow arched high. Ryan was way better at this fake boyfriend stuff. He knew this would look weird, them leaving so much room, so he shifted and leaned his weight against Boone's shoulder, sitting close to him now. 

 

"Shit, right, sorry" Boone mumbled softly, moving to slide his arm around Ryan, though the tension radiating off of him was palpable. 

 

"Breathe, Boone," Ryan told him quietly, slumping down more against the couch, so his head was rested comfortably in the nook of Boone's arm. He was warm and smelled a little bit like cinnamon, or maybe cloves. 

 

Boone let his arm hang heavily around Ryan's shoulders, and if he was being completely honest, Ryan knew this wasn't just about looking convincing for Boone's parents. Ryan didn't know just what would be waiting for him when he got home. He wasn't sure just what bridges he'd burned. He knew it had to be done, but it didn't mean he wasn't freaking out about it deep down. It felt really good to be held like this, Boone supporting his weight.  Ryan took a breath, letting it out on a sigh, and melted more into the embrace.

 

"You okay?" Boone asked, his thumb rubbing a slow circle over Ryan's shoulder, warm even through the fabric of his sweater. 

 

"Not sure yet," Ryan said, turning toward Boone, a bit startled at how close they really were. He could feel Boone's breath on his forehead. "We'll see when I get home."

 

Boone's brow furrowed and he hugged his arm around Ryan reassuringly. "You weren't wrong, Ry. He had to hear all of that."

 

"He's not going to get it, though," Ryan said, dropping his eyes from Boone's. It was too much, felt too open. He couldn't hide like this. "He thinks he's doing everything right."

 

"He's not," Boone interrupted matter-of-factly. "He should be there for you no matter what. It's bullshit that he's not."

 

Ryan sighed, chewing the corner of his lower lip, idly tugging at a loose string on the hem of his sleeve. "They did a lot for me growing up, taking me for practices and games early, buying all my equipment…"

 

"That doesn't mean he can treat you like crap now," Boone argued. "Don't let him make you think you're the bad guy here. Everything you said, he deserved." 

 

Ryan finally cracked a smile, albeit a weak one, "You're just glad I gave him hell for calling you a cook."

 

"I'm glad you gave him hell for treating you like shit, Ryan." Boone's hand had drifted from his shoulder down to his back, where he was now rubbing soft, soothing circles. "I appreciate you defending me, but you're the one who needed it."

 

Ryan huffed out a breath, his cheek resting on Boone's shoulder. He felt Boone's chest rise and fall, the soft touch of his hand. The longer he stayed like this, the less he wanted to leave. The longer he stayed like this, the more he wanted to just move in closer.

 

"I should probably get home," Ryan said, his voice coming our rougher than he planned. "God only knows how it's going to be there."

 

Reluctantly, he pulled out of Boone's grasp. "I'll take you home, they aren't going to let me in the kitchen anyway."

 

Ryan put on a smile to wish Terri and Matt Merry Christmas and held it all the way out the door, but the drive back to his house was quiet, and he could sense Boone's eyes on him for most of it. 

 

"Hey, if you need anything tonight," Boone offered once he parked outside of Ryan's building; he climbed out of the car when Ryan did. "You know you're welcome to come hang out with us. Mom would love it."

 

"Gotta face the music eventually," Ryan said grimly, giving a weak smile. "Thanks for letting me tag along today, though. I needed the break."

 

He started toward the house, but Boone's hand on his arm stopped him. "Hey, don't let him get you down in there. You don't deserve it, eh?" 

Ryan just nodded, clenching his jaw. "I'll do my best."

 

Boone smiled just a little, not quite reaching his eyes, then stepped forward to pull Ryan into a hug. Ryan was startled for a moment, but he sunk into it easily, gripping a little too tight onto Boone's coat. He took a deep breath, letting out a shaky exhale as he pulled away. Boone had done enough for him today, he couldn't keep him here longer.

 

"I'll see you tomorrow," Boone said, rubbing over Ryan's back as he they stepped back. 

 

Ryan was already counting down.


	13. Chapter 13

When Ryan got inside, his mother was sitting on the couch knitting, as usual. She had the TV on, what appeared to be a cheesy Christmas movie on Lifetime or Hallmark. His dad was nowhere to be seen.

 

"Hey mom," Ryan said, stepping slowly into the room, as if his dad would jump out and yell at him at any moment. "I'm sorry about…" he just waved a hand and grimaced, "everything. Earlier."

 

She smiled sadly and shrugged a shoulder. "Your father went out and grabbed something to eat already, so I'm afraid that big meal you planned is too much."

 

"Well I'm sure he'll be hungry later, he can have leftovers," Ryan suggested.

 

"I don't think he'll be coming out of that room today," she said, glancing back at the closed guest room door. "He wanted to get a hotel but everything was all booked up. We'll just be leaving in the morning."

 

"So that's it? I speak up and he's just going to leave without talking to me?"   
  


"Ryan, that isn't fair," his mother said, her voice going softer. "He tries to help you so much, he just wants to be involved."

 

Same shit, different day. She always defended him. "Right, of course. Dad's just trying to  _ help _ when he picks me apart every time he talks to me," Ryan stood and shook his head, interrupting his mother before she could argue. "I'm going to heat dinner. If you want some, there's plenty."

 

Boone's instructions for the meal were easy to follow, and Ryan appreciated it even more than he normally would. He couldn't believe his father was going to refuse to talk to him. He couldn't believe his mother kept defending him.

 

Well, he could believe it. It all just left him so exhausted.

 

_ Dad has barricaded himself in the guest room. Silent treatment. _

 

Boone responded to the text almost immediately.

 

_ So he's going to go from playing coach to acting like he's 3? _

 

Ryan sighed and glanced at the guest room again. Door still closed. The TV was on inside, but turned low.

 

_ Wanted to get a hotel but everything's booked. Mom told me he "just wants to help" _

 

Ryan put the next foil tray into the oven, the smell of roasted meat and vegetables drifting out. His apartment felt like a hockey rink first thing in the morning, but at least the kitchen was warm and the food smelled good. He should've just stayed at Boone's house, he would've been more comfortable.

 

_ She has an odd definition of what help is. _

 

As much as he wanted to be anywhere but here, Ryan didn't know when he'd see his parents next, and he felt obligated to stay. Not that it mattered much. His mother was wrapped up in her movie and her yarn, his father was unlikely to say another word to him before they left.

 

Ryan let dinner warm in the oven and he set the table for three. He opened a bottle of wine and poured three glasses of water. Just in case.

 

"Dinner's ready, if you want some," Ryan called to his mother as he heaped far more food than his nutritionist would approve on his plate. 

 

His mother did join him for dinner, at least. She mostly pushed food around on her plate, though she did make some noise that he thinks was a compliment about the taste, but she mostly stayed quiet. Ryan noticed how she kept glancing down the hall, as if by just  _ eating Christmas dinner with her son _ she was betraying Ryan's father.

 

Ryan didn't bother trying to carry on a conversation. He cleared the dishes once they were done and tidied the kitchen. Only the characters on TV had spoken in hours when Ryan finally gave up and went to bed.

____

 

Ryan heard his parents up and moving about well before the sun came up the next morning. He knew their flight wasn't until nearly noon, so it seemed excessively early. He pulled himself out of bed--he had barely slept anyway--and padded out of his room. Ryan's dad was in the living room, sitting on the couch, arms crossed, brows knotted together. He glanced up for only an instant when he heard Ryan's door open.

 

"Heading out a little early this morning?" Ryan said as he turned into the kitchen, filling the carafe with water to start a pot of coffee. "I can take you to the airport."

 

His dad just frowned deeper. "I booked a ride."

 

Only four words, but they dropped the temperature in the room by ten degrees. His father offered no other explanation, spoke nothing else other than a muttered "goddammit, Sharon" when his mother realized she forgot to pack her toiletries from the bathroom.

 

His father stormed out the door, suitcase in tow, when a car horn blared outside. He didn't even glance in Ryan's direction on his way out. His mother waited another moment, sighing sadly.

 

"You should apologize to your father, Ryan," his mother said as she hugged him goodbye. "You know he only wants the best for you."

 

"I love you, Mom," Ryan ignored it, hugging her tighter and kissing her cheek. "Call me when you get home, okay?"

 

"He'll be there whenever you come around, okay sweetheart?" she persisted, then grabbed her suitcase. "I love you, I'll let you know when we touch down."

 

And then his apartment was silent again. Ryan wasn't sure if that was a relief or not.

____

 

Boone had told his mom that he forgot something in his car, that he was just running out to grab it before they went to the zoo. Really, he just wanted to see Ryan first. It seemed like the rest of his parents' visit had been awful, so he wanted to check on him without anyone else listening.

 

"I could've come upstairs to get you guys," Ryan said as he climbed from his car. "I didn't mean for you to meet me out here."

 

"No, I know that, my parents are waiting. I wanted to see how you're doing first," Boone asked, almost going for a hug, but deciding against it. 

 

Ryan took a breath, puffed it out on a humorless laugh. "Well my dad said four whole words to me before they left, and my mom told me to call when I 'come around' and I'm ready to apologize. She did like your food, though."

 

Boone grimaced and led Ryan toward the door, resting a hand supportively on his shoulder. Shoulder was safe. "Well then it's good you'll be with  _ my _ parents tonight, my mom hasn't stopped telling me what a catch you are since she met you. Clearly my parents are smarter than yours."

 

Ryan smiled now, and it wasn't a full smile, but it was a genuine one nonetheless. "Well at least someone likes me a little, I guess." 

 

Boone wasn't entirely sure how anyone wouldn't like Ryan, but that wasn't a thought he needed to voice aloud. "Oh, she's ready to adopt you already. She's been talking about this double date to the zoo since you mentioned it."

 

Ryan followed Boone off the elevator on his floor, and paused just outside of his apartment. "We should, uh…" he said, then trailed off, reaching out to entwine his fingers with Boone's and gave a lopsided smile. "If it's a date."

 

Boone hoped his hands weren't too clammy. They probably were.

 

"Right, yeah. Gotta look realistic, huh?"

 

"We're getting pretty good at it, I think," Ryan said with a nod and squeezed his hand as Boone opened the door to his place. 

____

 

They strolled through the zoo slowly with Boone's parents, each of them bundled in hats and scarves against the chill, the sky nearly midnight dark by the time they got there. Boone's mom was delighted, taking pictures and videos of every flickering display they passed. Boone's dad kept up with her and played along, even if Boone knew for a fact that he'd rather be at home with a beer and watching A Christmas Story for at least the fifth time.

 

Ryan stayed with Boone a few steps behind, standing just close enough for their arms to bump while they walked. As they wound their way through the lighted path of the zoo, Ryan's shoulders had loosened, the wrinkle in his brow had smoothed. He almost looked like he was having fun, which was a drastic improvement from the frown on his face when Boone had first seen him earlier.

 

They mostly just stood close, but every once in awhile, Ryan would grab his hand, like it was nothing. Like this wasn't just a fake date to convince his parents they were a couple. Boone had stopped him once, when he knew his hand was sweaty, paused so he could wipe his palm on his pants before letting Ryan hold it. Ryan grinned at him, amused, but held his hand anyway. His parents weren't looking when it happened, so he wasn't sure if it was for their benefit or not.

 

"How was your Christmas with your folks, Ryan?" Terri asked while they waited in line for hot chocolate.

 

"Oh, it was okay," Ryan said, but the shift in tone was obvious. "They had to leave this morning, so it was just a quick visit."

 

"Oh my, so soon after the holiday?" she said, frowning. "I was hoping we'd get to meet them."

 

Boone snorted. He didn't mean to. He couldn't help it. His mother's eyes flashed to him and he cleared his throat, tugged on his ear. "Sorry, sorry."

 

Ryan smiled weakly and handed the first cup of cocoa to Boone's mom. "My dad and I have a...tense relationship, I guess you could say. He doesn't always approve of everything I do, so visits are sometimes a little, uh, challenging. Boone has seen how that goes, so don't blame him for reacting like that."

 

"How could he not approve of you?" Boone's mother was aghast. "You're such a wonderful young man, he should be bragging about you to everyone!"

 

Ryan took his cocoa after everyone else had a cup, and he smiled thinly. "Thanks, Terri, it's just weird family stuff. Not everyone has parents like you two. He feels the need to point out every flaw I have whenever we're together, so it's kind of rough after a few days. I kinda lost my patience with him this time, so they left a little bit early."

 

Boone could feel the discomfort radiating off of Ryan, and without thinking twice about it, he slid his arm around Ryan's waist and pulled him closer. Ryan glanced at him for a quick moment, gave a sad smile and leaned more into his touch. "It's just nice to get out here with you guys, Christmas has always been tense at home with them, so this is good. Gets me out of my own head."

 

Boone's dad shook his head, "It's bullshit that you can't enjoy the holidays with your family, Ryan, but we're glad to help."

 

"Come on, guys, we still have half the zoo to see," Boone suggested, nodding down the walk ahead of them. "And if we're going to try to get on the train, we need to get over there and get in line."

 

Finally off the awkward topic of his family, Ryan started to relax as they moved ahead to the next part of the tour. He slowly started to smile again, started--fake?--flirting with Boone again. Boone kept his arm around Ryan for a while. It felt nice, and Ryan didn't seem to mind. And if Boone just happened to notice a sprig of mistletoe hanging up ahead, and if he thought for just a moment about purposefully steering them in that direction before deciding against it, well, no one had to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: to be fair, I've never actually been to Columbus Zoo for Wildlights or anything else, so there's some artistic license for that part of things. Thanks for all the great feedback so far, guys :)


	14. Chapter 14

It might have been risky to be at an event like Wildlights and keep holding Boone's hand. But Ryan had a hat on, a scarf, and it was dark outside save for the millions of lights draped on every surface of the zoo. No one was looking at him and Boone, they were all too busy watching the dancing lights around the pond. It made him feel a little more bold. And if Boone wondered, it was all for his parents.

 

It wasn't, but it gave Ryan an easy excuse.

 

They managed to catch the train at a moment where it wasn't too exceptionally busy, so their wait on line wasn't long. Boone's mom and dad climbed onto the train, and Boone stepped up right behind them and into the very last row. The seats were made to hold two, but they were snug, so out of necessity Ryan leaned in close against Boone. He didn't mind it too much, and he was pretty sure Boone didn't either.

 

The train wound through different habitats, and Boone's mom was just as enthralled as she had been all night. Ryan pressed his shoulder in closer and reached over, lacing his fingers through Boone's. Boone's hand was freezing, but he squeezed back and glanced at Ryan, a soft smile playing on his lips. 

 

"I told you to bring gloves," Ryan told him, wrapping both of his hands around Boone's to warm it. 

 

"Well I didn't think you'd be holding my hand all night, eh?" Boone said, dipping his head closer to Ryan's, arching one eyebrow, "I figured I could keep them in my pockets."

 

"See, you should've just listened to me, then your hands wouldn't be so cold," Ryan pulled Boone's hand up more against him, rubbing over it to create a little friction. "But I guess I can just warm you up this way instead."

 

"You keep me warmed up plenty, Ry," Boone countered, pausing for just a moment before pressing a kiss over Ryan's knuckles. 

 

Ryan took a slow breath as Boone looked up at him, lowering their hands and winking. It would be so easy to just shift over a little bit, no one was looking, they were the last row of the train…

 

"Look at you two boys back there, enjoying the romantic train ride!" Boone's mom interrupted, smiling broadly back at them, holding up her phone. "Lean close, I want a picture. Don't argue, Boone."

 

He hadn't even had a moment to speak, he'd only just opened his mouth. Ryan bit back a curse and put on a pleased smile. "I think we can handle a picture, Terri. Even this grump."

 

"Grump?! Why am I grumpy?" Boone protested, wrinkling his nose. "I just don't like pictures."

 

"Grumpy is as grumpy does, Boone," Ryan said, elbowing him lightly before leaning in closer to him, their cheeks pressed together. Boone's beard was growing in thicker, rough against Ryan's skin, and Ryan decided he liked it. 

 

Boone's mom snapped a couple of pictures, "Thank you for patronizing me, boys, I'll let you get back to your moment." 

 

She turned back around, but Ryan stayed leaning in close to Boone, still holding his hand tightly. After all the stress of the holiday, fighting with his father, feeling like his mother didn't care, it felt nice to have this moment, surrounded by thousands of twinkling lights, soft Christmas music playing in the distance, with the warmth of Boone's body against his.

 

The train ride didn't last nearly long enough.

____

 

Boone hadn't expected Ryan to hold his hand through the whole train ride. Boone hadn't expected him to do much at all at that moment. His parents were facing the other way, they couldn't even see them without turning around. But Ryan held his hand the whole time anyway, thumb tracing idle arcs back and forth over Boone's skin.

 

If it wasn't for his parents' benefit, Boone wasn't entirely sure what it meant. He didn't lean away when Ryan moved close, though. 

 

The ride wasn't even ten full minutes, and it was probably a good thing. It was undeniably romantic, with soft snow drifting down, glittering reflection off the colored lights. The air was crisp and cool and smelled of winter. If the ride had gone any longer, Boone probably would've done something crazy like try to kiss Ryan.

 

Boone wondered if Ryan would've kissed back. 

____

 

"Thank you so much for taking us tonight, Ryan," Boone's mom hugged him tight once they got back home. She kissed his cheek and rubbed lipstick from his skin. "We're going up to bed, you boys don't stay out here too long, it's cold."

 

Boone made sure his parents were inside and on the elevator before he started to laugh. "If you aren't careful, she's going to move here so she can hang out with you all the time, Ry." 

 

Ryan grinned, leaning back against his car, hands shoved in his pockets. "Are you kidding? My parents are barely talking to me, I might welcome a bonus mom who actually appreciates me."

 

Boone grimaced and watched Ryan's face. "Are you handling all of that okay? It can't be easy."

 

Ryan gave a half-hearted smile and shrugged a shoulder. "I'm doing better now, I needed to get out tonight. This was a good way to wrap up Christmas after everything else."

 

That was right, Christmas was really over now. Boone had a few New Year's jobs to work on starting tomorrow, and he knew Ryan had games again. Boone's parents would go home in two days, and then there was no reason to keep up the charade.

 

"Well if it makes you feel better, you made  _ my _ Christmas considerably easier, my mom didn't ask once about when I'm going to settle down with a nice boy already," Boone grinned, pleased when Ryan smiled back. "And you still have a few cooking lessons to plan. You'll have to let me know what your schedule looks like."

 

"I'm leaving for a quick trip for the next few days," Ryan counted off the days on his fingers, lips twisted to one side. "But we have four games at home after that, so somewhere in there. I'll text you when I know what days work."

 

Boone nodded, glad that at least he didn't have to completely break ties with Ryan yet. He'd probably have to eventually, but they weren't there yet. "I should probably head inside," he said, nodding toward the door. "My mom is going to be sending the picture of us on the train to every aunt back home."

 

"I'll see you soon, yeah?" Ryan said, stepping forward and pulling Boone into a one-armed hug. "Tell your parents I had a great time with them and I'm sorry I can't see them off."

 

Boone leaned into his arms, rubbed over his back, patting it in an attempt to keep things more platonic. "Thanks for everything, Ryan."

 

Before he gave in and kissed Ryan the way he really wanted to, Boone slipped away and trotted inside, shoving still cold hands into his pockets. 

____

 

Ryan never did get a phone call when his parents got home. He got a short text from his mother ( _ Made it home safe. Love you.) _ and then radio silence. He wasn't sure when his father would decide to speak to him again.

 

The worst part of it all was that the biggest emotion he had about it was  _ relief.  _ If his dad wasn't talking to him, he couldn't call out every bad pass, every missed shot. Relief turned to guilt and Ryan just wanted to stop thinking about it.

 

Once the Christmas break was over, they had a game in Detroit and another in Buffalo before they were home again. Hockey was often a good distraction when Ryan knew he didn't have to go home to his dad tearing down his play. On the ice he could shut his brain off and let instinct and muscle memory take over. 

 

He played his best game all year in Detroit. No points to show for it, but he was a plus-two and only missed getting an assist because the puck glanced off of Foligno's backside on its way into the net. 

 

When he got back to the hotel that night and glanced at his phone, he noticed a single text alert. He assumed his dad couldn't resist voicing his thoughts. Instead, when he tapped the icon, it was from Boone.

 

_ My parents finally go home tomorrow. You're officially off duty as fake boyfriend. _

 

If Ryan was honest with himself, he'd nearly forgotten that this was all an act. He enjoyed spending time with Boone, and Boone's parents were nicer to him in a few days than his own parents had ever been. For the first time, he felt like he'd gotten to really enjoy the holidays, even if everything with his own family was bad.

 

_ Well you aren't, we still have a few cooking lessons to schedule. _

 

Ryan honestly  _ could _ use the expertise. When he did cook for himself, it was only the absolute basics. Chicken and rice and veggies, sometimes pasta. His idea of adventurous was putting everything on the grill, not on a sheet pan in the oven. He most certainly could use some ideas to make his cooking a little less boring.

 

He mostly liked the idea of spending more time with Boone, though. Ryan hadn't had a girlfriend in years, and the last boy he kissed before Boone was well before he was drafted. Hockey was more important. His dad made sure he remembered that. If his father wasn't speaking to him, though, there was no one to disapprove.

 

It was a delicate thing, dating a guy as a professional athlete, but in a city like Columbus, Ryan could get away with it. Hockey had a decent following here, but Ryan wasn't one of the most recognizable players. He didn't have his face on billboards, no local companies were putting him in commercials. He could lay low. He could fly under the radar. He'd seen it before with other players, he'd heard stories. 

 

Though there was the wrinkle of Boone's parents thinking he was a law student. His parents thinking they'd been a couple for a year. He wasn't sure how to handle that part. Telling Terri and Matt that they had lied to them all along wasn't appealing at all after they way they had so openly accepted him.

 

_ Tell your parents to have a safe trip, and thank them for being so nice to me. _

 

Ryan changed out of his game suit and into comfortable clothes, stretched out on the bed to read until he got tired. 

 

_ They said not to thank them. And my mom said she can't wait to see you at Easter. _

 

The text from Boone was punctuated with a facepalm emoji, and Ryan thought for a moment of sending back an invitation to his place for Easter. He figured he should probably actually ask Boone on a real date before that, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again: I've never been to Wildlights so if I was horribly off describing it, I apologize. Artistic license, guys!


	15. Chapter 15

A few days later life was almost back to normal for Boone. His parents had flown home, though his mother had left him with enough cookies for himself, his crew at work, and at least ten other people. The Christmas tree was still up in his living room, the mistletoe still in doorway. But his apartment was quiet at night once more, and his days were again spent in the kitchen. 

 

He just couldn't quite get his head in the game. He'd been tapping his pen on the wooden countertop of his kitchen for twenty minutes, stumped on the menu for Nationwide's New Year's Eve gala. He had appetizers and desserts decided, but he was blanking on a main course that would compliment both. 

 

"Boone, hey, hi," Katherine snapped her fingers from the swinging door between his kitchen and office. "There we go, boss, I finally have your attention."

 

"Sorry, Kath, menu planning. What's going on?"

 

"Well I mostly wanted to let you know I'm heading out for the day, so you'll need to man the phones," she walked into the room, a devious smirk on her lips. "But now I want to know what's got you so spacey. You're never like this. Menu planning is like therapy for you."

 

Boone stood and stretched his back, dropping his pen on the notepad in front of him. "Just still decompressing from the holidays, I guess."   
  


"Right, I'm sure it has nothing to do with one Ryan Murray," she said, arms crossed over her chest. "Where's he been anyway? I'll need help packing up all the Christmas decoration stuff and loading it into the shed."

 

"He has a  _ job _ ," Boone muttered, rolling his eyes, though he felt his cheeks flush. He hadn't been thinking of Ryan. Not too much anyway. "He was just helping out because I was doing him a favor."

 

"Mmhmm," Katherine said, clearly disbelieving. "So he just showed up on Christmas for deliveries because you were making him dinner? And that picture your mom posted of you two at Wildlights, that was because you were doing him a favor too? He overpays for favors, I guess."

 

Dammit, he knew his mom wasn't going to put those pictures on Instagram.

 

"Look, it was just an...agreement, over the holidays. My mom takes things too far, that's all."

 

"I just know you looked happier on Christmas Eve, working with him, than I've seen you look in  _ years _ ," she said, rubbing his shoulder. "I think you should get over yourself and call him. Because  _ he _ looked pretty happy too."

____

Ryan followed up a good game in Detroit with an even better one in Buffalo. Flights home after wins were always easy; everyone was in a good mood, especially since they knew an extended homestand was waiting once they got back to Columbus. Having a week or more at home, sleeping in your own bed every night, was a perk that didn't happen too often during a hockey season.

 

He still hadn't heard from his parents. He'd called his mother and left her a voicemail, but there hadn't been a response yet. It stung, of course, but he wasn't entirely surprised by it either. His parents were both expecting an apology that wasn't going to come. 

 

It was well past midnight by the time he drove from the airport and made it back to his place. When he stepped off the elevator at his floor and rounded the corner, he noticed a small, square insulated bag sitting in front of his door, with an envelope on top, his name scrawled across it.

 

_ I knew you'd be getting home from the road trip tonight, thought you might be hungry after the flight. Quinoa pilaf with mirepoix. Preview of your first cooking lesson, we'll make this as a side for poached snapper! _

_ -B _

 

Ryan was really glad it was so late, because he stood in the hallway grinning like an idiot for far longer than he would ever admit to anyone. He carried the cooler inside and set it on the kitchen counter, dropping his travel bag on the way. It was too late to eat much, but he was intrigued. Boone had cooked for him and brought it all the way here, Ryan at least owed it to him to try.

 

The container was packed in with dry ice, so Ryan popped it into the microwave to warm it up. He wondered for a moment what wine Boone would pair it with. That was something else they should cover during these lessons.

 

While the quinoa heated through, Ryan changed out of his suit and into pajamas, unpacked anything that couldn't wait until the morning, and then he went back to the kitchen to taste the food. It looked a bit like fried rice, diced carrots and onions mixed with the grain, and it smelled better than anything Ryan had ever cooked for himself. He only intended to take a few bites, but before he knew it, he was scraping the bottom of the dish.

 

He wanted to text Boone as soon as he finished, but it was too late for that. He washed the container and wiped out the cooler. He could text Boone, or he could just drop this stuff off at his office on the way to practice tomorrow morning. 

 

Seeing Boone in person was definitely the better option.

____

 

It was a stupid idea, Boone thought, sitting at his desk first thing in the morning. Ryan probably got in really late from his road trip, he didn't want food then. Now he wasn't hearing anything from Ryan, and Boone figured he'd probably freaked him out and ruined...whatever this thing was with them. He didn't know why he'd let Katherine talk him into making the food delivery. He had to stop listening to her.

 

He tried to busy himself with billing paperwork to fight the pit of anxiety in his stomach. He had invoices that needed to be filed from Christmas, and he had to process deposits for New Year's Eve orders. He had finally decided on a main course for the Nationwide gala, and he would have to start the prep for that, but not until later, when he had a sous chef on hand and Katherine to handle the phones and email.

 

He was halfway through all the necessary paperwork when the bell on the front door chimed. It was early for anyone else to be here, so Boone straightened himself and closed his ledger. Customer maybe? 

 

Instead, Ryan peeked into the room, knit cap pulled low over his ears, snow dusted over the lapels of his coat. "Hey, I was hoping you were in this morning," he held out a cup for Boone, "skim milk and one packet of raw sugar, right?"

 

"Yeah, thank you," Boone took the coffee, surprised Ryan had known. He was pretty sure he'd never actually told Ryan how he took it. "What are you doing here so early?"

 

"Well I was  _ going _ to text you to thank you for the surprise midnight snack last night, but I wanted to return this stuff," he held up the cooler and container with his free hand, "so I just decided to stop by on my way to practice."

 

Boone couldn't help but beam when he mentioned the quinoa, "I was starting to think one of your neighbors swiped it when I didn't hear from you."

 

"God no, it was just really late when I got in. I only wanted to try it, and then I finished the whole container," Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. "And if that's what you're teaching me to make, I want to get started. We're off New Year's Day and I only have practice in the morning the day after, so if you're free, we could get together for one of those nights."

 

Boone scanned the calendar on his phone. "I've got the Nationwide event tomorrow and we're doing a brunch over in Easton the next morning. We could do dinner at my place New Year's night?"

 

Ryan nodded, taking a drink of his coffee, "I'll even help deconstruct all the Christmas stuff I helped your parents put up, since I'm partly to blame for it."

 

"Damn right you will, I'm not taking all that down myself," Boone said with a grin. "Meet at my place at say, four?"

 

Ryan smiled and backed toward the door, leaning against the frame. "Are you sure you don't mind it after working in the morning?"

 

"Brunch is always easy, most of that is prep work the day before, I'll barely be doing any real cooking on site for that one. So I'll be ready to whip your culinary butt into shape."

 

"Well then, four on New Year's Day works," Ryan said. "It's a date."

____

 

There were days when practice was frustrating, tedious. Torts was sometimes pissed off at something from the previous game, or passes weren't connecting right, or the ice was chippy. But it wasn't one of those days. Everyone was still in a good mood from a successful road trip and practice went by quickly.

 

Ryan found that he wasn't picking his own game apart since his dad wasn't calling him with "tips." He felt lighter, his stick felt better in his hands. He was so used to tension coiled in his neck, the ease of the last few days was a welcome surprise. 

 

"Keep up the confidence, Murr, that's what I wanna see from you out there," Torts told him as he stepped off the ice. He wasn't sure Torts had ever actually complimented him before.

____

 

Ryan had kept to the same routine before every game since he was in juniors. He went down for a nap at 1:30 and he slept for 90 minutes, no more or less. He had grilled chicken and roasted vegetables over a pile of brown rice. He got a coffee on the way to the rink. 

 

For the New Year's Eve game, though, he decided to give himself a little break. He hit snooze and extended his nap a few minutes longer. He made pasta while his chicken baked in the oven. He took a different route to the rink, though he still got coffee. He always rode the stationary bike before games, but tonight he decided to play soccer with the guys in the hallway instead. 

 

Ryan couldn't remember going into a game less stressed. Ever since he was in Everett, he was used to going into each night dreading the conversation with his father afterward. Without that to agonize over, he was able to take in what he loved about playing hockey again. Goofing off with his teammates during warmups. Getting pumped up in the locker room. The rush of anticipation while listening to the crowd roar as they skated out onto the ice. 

 

He felt like he could really love hockey again.

 

The game was a tight one, not too many chances going either way. But the fans were into it--New Year's Eve games were always rowdy--and Bob was in the zone. With less than three minutes left in the game, Jones fired a shot on net that ricocheted off of a Ranger and then the post and into the net. The horn blared, the cannon fired. He and the rest of the Jackets defense shut down New York the rest of the way.

 

Wins always felt good. But this one was even better without worrying about his phone buzzing later that night. No, tonight Ryan Murray was just a hockey player celebrating a big win with his teammates. And tomorrow, he had a date. 

 

It was a pretty damn good way to end the year.


	16. Chapter 16

_ It's a date _ . 

 

There were days that it was a really good thing that Boone had been doing this long enough to go on autopilot. Today was one of those days. He managed to get the entire brunch menu in order, accurately, while his brain was somewhere else entirely. Mostly focused on three dumb words Ryan had thrown out, words he probably hadn't even thought twice about. Three words that probably meant more to Boone than they did to Ryan.

 

_ It's a date. _

 

Boone never left his staff to finish cleanup after an event, but today when Katherine shooed him out the door while the last of the dirty dishes were finally being brought into the kitchen, left only with crumbs and a few swipes of pure maple syrup, Boone let her.

 

"Get  _ out _ of here, your mooneyes are gross and distracting the rest of us," she said with a groan. "I'll take care of this, you go get yourself ready. Fix your hair. Wear something blue, it's good with your eyes."

 

"I know how to dress myself, Kath." 

 

She snorted and rolled her eyes, "He's been flirting with you for two weeks and you haven't figured it out on your own, so I just assume you need all the help you can get."

 

"He hasn't been…" Boone started to protest but Katherine just snorted and pushed him toward the door. 

 

" _ Go _ ." 

 

_ It's a date. _

____

 

Boone scrubbed his kitchen to shining before Ryan came over. They were going to make a mess of it, sure, but he wanted a good impression to start the night. His hair was fixed and he was indeed wearing a blue button-down shirt (he would never tell Katherine she was right about that). He wanted to drink a couple of glasses of wine to get ready, but he decided against it. He had to be sober enough to cook.

 

Ryan arrived exactly on time, and after a brief moment of silent panic, Boone took a breath and walked over to let him inside. Ryan's hair was stuck up slightly on one side even though it was obvious he'd styled it. Boone wanted to pet the offending hair down for him, but he kinda liked it that way. Boone contemplated a hug briefly, but he wasn't sure if it would seem weird. And he couldn't go for a handshake, because Ryan's hands were full.

 

"I was pretty sure white wine is supposed to go with fish, but I grabbed a bottle of each just in case," Ryan said, holding up both bottles as he stepped past Boone into the apartment. 

 

"White was definitely the right choice for tonight," Boone took the bottles to the kitchen while Ryan shrugged off his coat.  _ Dammit, should've taken his jacket,  _ Boone thought _. _ "We'll save the red for your next lesson."

 

Ryan followed him and opened the cabinet to grab two wine glasses, and took the magneted corkscrew from the side of the fridge. He paused halfway through opening the bottle, a grimace coming over his face. "I just kinda made myself at home here, eh? Sorry about that."

 

Boone hadn't even thought twice about it. It seemed normal for Ryan to be comfortable in his space. Boone needed to get himself together, part of him was starting to think Ryan really  _ had _ been around for the last year. "Don't mention it, you know where everything is.  _ Mi casa es su casa _ and all that." 

 

Ryan poured them each a glass of wine, handing one to Boone. "Well I'm probably going to make a mess of your kitchen tonight, so I'm planning to get pretty comfortable around here."

 

"Ahh, but that's the  _ last _ part of your lesson tonight, proper cleanup of your tools and area so they're ready for the next use," Boone took a slow sip of his wine, pacing himself. "First of all, ingredients. We'll prep everything first so we don't have to stop to cut up anything else later. And we need to see just how awful your knife skills are anyway."

 

Ryan made a face, "Hey, I know how to use a knife!"

 

"Well yeah, I'm sure you can, but you probably don't use it  _ correctly, _ " Boone turned to grab the carrots, celery, a white onion, spreading them on the counter, pulling out his best wooden cutting board. "You  _ can _ use a plastic cutting board, but it's brutal on your knife blades. Try to only use plastic cutting boards when you're cutting raw meat. And then don't use the raw meat cutting boards for vegetables. Cross-contamination."

 

Ryan smirked, leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. "It's  _ adorable  _ how you think I own more than one cutting board."

 

Boone sighed deeply, shaking his head emphatically. "You have  _ so much _ to learn."

____

 

Ryan would be lucky if he retained even half of what Boone was teaching him. Boone was showing him different knives, all stored tidily on a magnetic strip attached to the backsplash behind the sink. Ryan's knowledge of knives was basically steak and Swiss Army. 

 

"Most of these knives aren't necessary for anyone who isn't cooking for a living, but you should have a good all-purpose chef's knife and a few others," Boone tapped his finger on the handles of a small paring knife, a large serrated bread knife, and a couple of others that Ryan didn't recognize. "For today, everything we're doing you can use the chef's knife to handle it."

 

Boone handed the knife to Ryan, handle first. "Sure you trust me with this thing? I don't want to ruin a $200 knife."

 

"It actually cost $600 on sale," Boone corrected, setting the onion in the center of the cutting board. "One of the most important skills to master is how to properly chop an onion."

 

Ryan squared up to the cutting board and grabbing the knife. "It can't be that hard."

 

"I mean, if you can play hockey without the tip of a couple of fingers, you could chop like that," Boone said, and Ryan could  _ hear _ the smug grin on his face before he even looked up.

 

"What? I'm not doing it wrong!"

 

Boone stepped forward and grabbed the knife from Ryan, fingers lacing over Ryan's as he took it. He nudged Ryan out of the way, elbowing him lightly, then moved so he was holding his left hand with the fingers curled down onto the cutting board, index finger and thumb bracing the blade in his other hand. "If you cut like this, your fingers are protected, see?" he mimicked chopping a few slices and glanced at Ryan.

 

Ryan was still standing close, looking over his shoulder, and he grinned when Boone's brow raised almost imperceptibly. "So I need to hold my left hand this way?" Ryan leaned forward, sliding his left hand over Boone's, skin to skin, matching the positioning. Boone took a breath and nodded, though he didn't say anything. 

 

"And then I hold the knife this way?" Ryan pressed close to Boone's side, reaching to curl his fingers over the handle, around Boone's hand already holding it. Boone was close enough for Ryan to hear him swallowing hard. He took a breath, let it out. "Uh, yeah. That's better. Give...give that a try."

 

Ryan grinned at him and bumped his hip over into Boone's. "So move out of the way..."

 

Boone stumbled a bit as he moved away, grabbing for his wine glass, taking a long drink. "Yeah, right, sorry."

 

Ryan bit his cheek to keep his smile from going too big, holding his hands the way Boone showed him, and he chopped the onion in half and peeled the skin. His eyes watered a bit, but he blinked it back. 

 

"Wait, wait, don't cut all the way through! Leave part of that at the end intact," Boone jumped forward, grabbing his forearm before he made the next cut. He traced a finger along the edge of the onion. "Just make slices down to there, but leave the end whole, then you can dice it easier."

 

Ryan made it through the onion slowly, and with tears stinging his eyes. The carrots and celery were easier. Boone shoved a pile of greens at him. "Now with herbs you can't really dice them, so you just want to rock the blade back and forth over the parsley," he explained, standing closer to Ryan again to show the motion. 

 

While Ryan finished with the parsley and then chives, Boone was getting out several pans of different shapes and sizes, tapped on the oven to preheat it. "The onions, carrots and celery combined are what you call a 'mirepoix.' It's the base of a lot of different things, soups and stews and things like that."

 

Boone thrust a pan at Ryan, then a bag of small grains. "Pour those into the pan and then cover them completely with water, they need to soak for a few minutes before we're ready for them." 

 

Ryan was trying to focus on what Boone was teaching him, really. But his mind drifted when Boone stood too close next to him at the stove as he started to sauté the mirepoix, watching the muscles of his forearm flex as he rinsed the fish and laid it on parchment on the counter. "Stir that around once more and then you can leave the veggies to soften, then we'll get the snapper ready."

 

The fish was sliced down the middle and Boone spread it open, nodding for two small dishes of salt and pepper. "Inside the fish really you just need the basics. Don't oversalt, the poaching liquid is going to have salt too, and it would be overkill. Couple of pinches, sprinkle both right here."

 

Ryan did as told, sprinkling salt and pepper along the cavity of the snapper while Boone rubbed the seasoning into the flesh. "There we go, now get the orange juice from the fridge, and the chives you chopped earlier."

 

They worked like that for a while, Boone explaining the steps as they went, Ryan just trying to follow along without screwing anything up, and Boone picking up the slack when he wasn't quite mastering whatever the task was. At last, the poaching dish went into the oven and a lid went over the quinoa. 

 

"And now we wait," Boone said, leaning against the counter and taking a drink of his wine. "Twenty minutes for the quinoa, and the fish should be finished at about the same time."

 

Ryan took a drink and inhaled deeply, "It smells incredible in here. I can't believe that's something I cooked."

 

"Well, something you  _ helped _ cook anyway," Boone corrected him, winking. 

 

"Yeah, yeah, I've gotta start somewhere," Ryan glanced into the living room, Christmas tree still up, lights still twinkling. "In the meantime, we should start taking that down."

 

"I told my parents to take it down before they left, but my mom said it was still Christmas until January," Boone shook his head and hauled two large green-lidded totes from the hallway closet. "But at least they bought bins to put all of this crap in."

 

They spent the next twenty minutes taking ornaments down and boxing them up, hands brushing every so often. Boone never looked at him when it happened, but his cheeks flushed and his lips curled in a soft smile. Ryan started unwinding the lights from the tree, shimmying behind it to untangle them from the branches that were mostly out of reach. 

 

"Your parents should've bought a pre-lit tree, lights are the worst," Ryan muttered, finally getting the last strand free.

 

Boone glanced over, chuckling as he wound the garland around his arm, "You can't do pre-lit, there are never enough lights!" 

 

There was a silver strand of tinsel on his shirt, another shining in his hair. "Well next year,  _ you _ are taking the lights off and I'll deal with the garland," Ryan said as he packed the lights away, pleased at how Boone ducked his head and grinned at the mention of next year.

 

"Come 'ere, you have tinsel on you," Ryan stepped up close to Boone, picking the first piece off of his chest, then met his eyes, reaching up to brush the silver from his hair, smoothing the spot back into place, rubbing his thumb along the shell of Boone's ear, skin warm and a little bit pink. He leaned into the touch and blinked slowly, his teeth worrying along the inside of his lower lip before he started to tip his head toward Ryan.

 

Twenty minutes wasn't  _ quite _ long enough, and the alarm on Boone's phone rang, startling both of them into jumping back from each other. 

 

Ryan was pretty sure Boone muttered a few curse words as he stabbed his iPhone screen to turn the beeping off, and Ryan was thinking the exact same thing.

 

"We'll finish this stuff later," Boone's voice was like sandpaper, and he cleared his throat, composing himself. "You stir the quinoa, I'll take the fish out of the oven." 

 

Ryan took a breath and followed him to the kitchen, doing as he was told. The whole apartment smelled rich, sweet like citrus and a little savory from the mirepoix in the quinoa. Boone was still muttering under his breath as he took the snapper out and set it on the trivet he'd put on the counter earlier. 

 

He regained form quickly as he peeled the foil back from the dish, lips curling into a grin. "That's exactly how this should look. You didn't do half bad for a beginner, you might not be terrible at this after all."

 

Ryan smirked and turned off the burner, folding the quinoa gently over itself, the grains fluffy now, vegetables tender enough to give when he pushed the spoon into them. It looked right, and it smelled right, so hopefully he managed to not ruin anything.

 

Boone peeked over his shoulder and patted his side, just below his waist. "That looks perfect, put the lid back on and let it rest. We'll skip the plating lesson for tonight, I'm starving. Grab some plates."

 

Ryan wasn't sure if it was weird that he remembered exactly where they were, but he took them down and set them on the counter in front of Boone. Boone had moved the fish out of the poaching liquid and onto a serving dish, and Ryan had to say, it all looked pretty damn good.

 

"Well look at that, it looks like I made something edible," Ryan leaned close to him as he cut into the fish and placed it on each of their plates. A piece of fish stuck to the fork and Boone held it up for him. 

 

"Try."

 

He meant for Ryan to take the fork, but that was too easy. Instead, Ryan curled his hand around Boone's wrist and lifted the bite to his mouth, wrapping his lips around it, keeping his gaze leveled on Boone's.

 

Boone swallowed, Adam's apple shifting up and back down as he watched Ryan. He started to say something, but Ryan cut him off with a wink. 

 

"Come on, dinnertime."


	17. Chapter 17

Dinner was fantastic. Boone knew deep down that it was--he could tell from the aroma of the fish, the texture of the carrots in the quinoa--he just couldn't really think clearly enough to taste it all properly, to let his palate experience the flavors fully, because Ryan was absolutely determined to drive him insane. It might have been working.

 

"Well I must say, you're a pretty damn good teacher, chef Jenner," Ryan said as he leaned back in his chair, pushing his now-empty plate away. "And I must be a pretty damn good student. That's by far the best thing I've ever had a hand in cooking."

 

Boone busied himself with rinsing off their dishes and loading them into the dishwasher, he was trying for nonchalant. He was pretty sure it wasn't working. "We'll see when you try to make it on your own at home, buddy, that's the true test."

 

Ryan seemed to pick up the memo, because he was then following Boone through the kitchen, handing off utensils for Boone to put in the sink to wash. "I'm not quite ready to take the training wheels off yet, I'm pretty sure I need a few more lessons for that."

 

"Well yeah, you still keep nearly cutting your first knuckle off when you're chopping," Boone smirked and poured them each another glass of wine. "I don't know too much about hockey, but I've got to figure you need those fingers to play well."

 

Ryan grinned broadly and wiggled all ten of his fingers at Boone before taking his glass. "All still intact so far, I'll try to keep it that way."

 

"Next time we'll work with beef, since you brought red wine too," Boone was tapping his toe slowly, lips twisting up on one side as he contemplated what they could make for the next lesson. If Ryan was going to keep standing so close and touching him so often, Boone should try to come up with something that didn't take too much concentration. 

 

"Think about it later, we still have decorations to put away," Ryan turned toward the living room and finished packing away the garland that Boone had left forgotten on the arm of the couch. 

 

After a lot of swearing and bickering over how best to stack the branches of the artificial tree into the box it had come in, Boone's living room was back to normal. No more lights, no more ornaments, no more glitter, just a few stray fake pine needles that he'd need to vacuum later. 

 

Though there was one last decoration that hadn't come down yet. In the doorway there still hung the sprig of mistletoe, though Boone was the only one who had noticed it.

 

"Your parents had this sorted out," Ryan called out from the other room as he carried their empty glasses into the kitchen, "they were here for the  _ fun  _ part of putting the tree up, and then they left us suckers to clean up after it."

 

Boone walked over to the doorway beneath the mistletoe, waiting for Ryan to come back into the living room. He ran his tongue over his teeth and took a slow, deep breath. Might as well make use of it one more time.

____

 

Ryan thought he should offer to wash the few dishes that were still in the sink, but Boone had already waved him off once, so he left them and turned to go back into the other room and he nearly walked right into Boone once he got to the doorway.

 

"Oh, shit, sorry…" he started to step aside, but Boone shook his head, his teeth running over his lower lip. "What…"

 

Boone stopped him and glanced up, a sheepish grin curling his lips as he pointed to the mistletoe hanging in the arch of the doorway. "We missed something."

 

"I guess we did," Ryan nodded, watching Boone curiously.

 

"I mean, we half-assed this the last time," he said, taking one step closer. Ryan met him halfway. He wasn't going to stop it if Boone wanted to make a move.

 

"No audience this time around," Ryan leaned closer and softened his voice, moving forward easily when he felt Boone's hand on his hip.

 

"And you  _ did _ tell me you're a better kisser without anyone watching," Boone's gaze was darting over Ryan's face, up to his eyes, down to his mouth, and then he  _ pulled _ . 

 

Boone's lips were soft beneath Ryan's, pliant but eager. His grip on Ryan's side tightened and he laced his free hand into Ryan's hair. He had the roughness of a day's growth of stubble along his jaw, a pleasant contrast to the gentle brush of his mouth, slow slide of his tongue over Ryan's lower lip. 

 

Ryan let Boone kiss him for a long moment first, reacting but not pushing back, though he curled his fingers in the front of Boone's shirt to hold him close. When he couldn't resist it any longer, he kissed back, wrapping one arm around Boone to haul their bodies closer together. Their thighs touched, their stomachs, neither had to lean down or up to reach. Boone tasted faintly of wine and a little bit like the orange zest he'd used for dinner.

 

Ryan captured Boone's lower lip between his teeth and tugged back on it to break the kiss, his breath stuttering out. Boone's eyelids fluttered open again and he grinned against Ryan's mouth, pressing one last kiss, quick and chaste, to the corner of his lips.

 

"You were right," he said, smoothing out Ryan's hair where he'd messed it up. "You're a way better kisser without an audience."

 

Ryan chuckled and pulled back, just enough to really get a good look at him. "I had to prove myself, it was a pretty weak showing the first time around."

 

Boone leaned his head against the doorway and grinned, his eyes bright. "You definitely redeemed yourself."

 

"And they do say practice makes perfect," Ryan rubbed his thumb over Boone's jaw, pressed it to the full arc of his lower lip and angled in to hold Boone against the door frame. "So I might get even better."

 

Ryan intended to practice a lot.

____

 

It had been a very, very long time since Boone had made out with someone. He wasn't sure if a grown man was even supposed to do that beyond the age of seventeen. 

 

But at the moment he was stretched out on his couch, leaning (a bit uncomfortably, but he wasn't going to kill the moment to ask to move) against the arm of it, with Ryan lying heavily on him and kissing a line of fire along his jaw and tracing onto his neck, and if he was too old for making out, he simply couldn't have cared less.

 

He was panting, he could hear the noise echoing around him, no music or TV on to drown it out. Ryan's hands were sliding over his sides, down to his hip, up to cup the back of his neck while his mouth wandered back to Boone's. Ryan wasn't joking about getting better with practice. 

 

"It's a good thing your mom didn't have the camera out this time with the mistletoe," Ryan said a few minutes later, making out having turned to something softer, less desperate. Boone shifted into a better position, neck no longer tipped off to one side. 

 

"Ryan, Ryan," he groaned, laying his head back and covering his eyes. "You just  _ can't _ mention my mom in a moment like this. Complete buzzkill."

 

Ryan huffed a laugh against Boone's neck, where he was nibbling gentle, not enough to mark, but enough to send shivers along Boone's arms. "Sorry, I'll keep that in mind for future reference. No parent talk when I'm kissing your neck."

 

Boone laughed, but it came out breathy, chopped. "Nope, no talking about my parents  _ ever _ if you're kissing me."

 

"So that means you would be interested in doing more of this kissing stuff?" Ryan asked, leaning up so Boone could see his face. He was teasing, but he was chewing the inside of his lip, a serious edge to the question. "And more of the making dinner together stuff?"

 

"I don't know, Ryan," Boone said, smoothing the collar of his shirt down, letting his thumb brush over bare skin, beyond pleased at the way Ryan rolled his shoulders into the touch. "I already got all these fake dates out of you."

 

"I'm sure I can find  _ some _ way to talk you into it," Ryan nudged Boone fully onto his back and yeah, Ryan was  _ definitely _ going to convince him.

____

 

By the time Ryan left an hour later, his hair was mussed, his shirt was wrinkled, and he was pretty sure he had stubble burn on his neck. Boone walked him to his car and kissed him goodbye. It lasted longer than a goodbye kiss strictly should.

 

"I have practice tomorrow morning, I should go," Ryan said, breaking away reluctantly. "We have to figure what to tell your parents."

 

Boone smiled and arched an eyebrow, "They're a few hours away, they don't need to know anything."

 

"Well see," Ryan said, rubbing his thumb over Boone's jaw, a faint pink mark he hadn't realized he'd left there, "they thought their son was dating Ryan Murray the law student, who you were going to fake break up with in a few weeks. But now," he continued, unlocking his car, "you're actually really dating Ryan Murray the professional hockey player, and I think they're eventually going to figure that out when I never become a lawyer."

 

Boone grimaced, but his eyes lit up. "So I'm actually really dating Ryan Murray, then? I don't remember him actually  _ asking _ or anything."

 

"Well then, Mister Jenner," Ryan started, leaning against his car, one ankle crossed over the other, "can I officially see you, for an official date, on Sunday night?"

 

Boone stepped close and kissed the smug grin right off of Ryan's face. "It's a date."


	18. Chapter 18

"Okay. Talk."

 

Boone damn near jumped out of his skin when Katherine stormed into the kitchen the next morning. "Jesus  _ Christ _ , Kath. We need to get you a bell."

 

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," she waved him off. "Date last night. Spill."

 

Boone really wanted to keep her in the dark, if only to teach her a lesson about being so damn nosy. But it was a  _ really good date. _ "It's going to be good when you go back to school, isn't your break over yet?"

 

"You're stuck with me for another week, now stop deflecting," she pulled a stool up and plopped herself down right next to Boone, hands clasped. "And I want all the details about the hickey on your jaw."

 

He had  _ really  _ hoped that the stubble on his chin would hide that. He skipped shaving for exactly that reason.

 

"It was just a date," he said with a shrug, trying to play it off, but she rolled her eyes.

 

"Pretty sure you said yesterday it wasn't even a date, you said it was just a cooking lesson. Did you wear blue?"

 

He sighed deeply, put upon. "If you must know, yeah. The navy button-down."

 

"Good boy. Sleeves folded up to your forearms?" Boone nodded, rolling his eyes as she preened. "See? Listen to me, I know what I'm talking about."

 

"Blind squirrel, nut, something about that," Boone smirked, shaking his head. "We made dinner together, and then we took down my Christmas decorations. And then I kinda...cornered him under the mistletoe."

 

"Oh Boone, honey," she groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. "You'd better be glad he has it bad for you. That's  _ so cheesy _ ."

 

Boone grimaced and felt his cheeks go hot, "Whatever, he didn't stop me or anything. It worked."

 

She poked the pink spot on his jaw. "I can see that. When are you going out again?"

 

"Sunday."

 

She clasped her hands together, delighted. "Already? That's perfect! Get takeout on the way, then you don't have to waste time cooking, you can get right to it."

 

"We're  _ adults _ , Kath, we don't have to 'get right to it,'" Boone made a face, shaking his head. 

 

"Right, right, you're  _ adults _ , sorry, take Scrabble with you and play a few games first."

 

Boone laughed and rolled his eyes, "Enough details for you, if you're just going to mock. There's a whole stack of billing that needs to be put in the computer, go do the actual work I pay you for."

____

 

Boone decided that the best way to come clean with his parents was to divide and conquer. He would talk to his dad first--his dad was less likely to freak out about the whole "so Ryan was my fake boyfriend but now he's my  _ real _ boyfriend" story.

 

He settled on the couch after work, already one beer deep and another next to him for courage, before he called his dad on Facetime.

 

"Dad, hey!" Boone said as soon as his father answered.  _ Too eager. Dial it back. _ "What are you up to?"

 

"Still trying to figure out how to use the damn Kindle your mom got me," he held up the offending electronic and then set it aside. "How were your New Year's jobs?"

 

"They went just as planned, and I've got a few days before we have any events, so I can catch up on all the paperwork and orders," he hesitated a moment and took a drink of his beer. "But I kinda needed to talk to you about something else. You guys liked Ryan, yeah?"

 

"He's a great kid, Boone, your mom has been talking about him to anyone who'll listen."

 

Boone took another breath and put on a smile, "So the thing about Ryan, first of all, he's not actually in law school."

 

Boone's dad laughed, which he wasn't expecting. "Oh god, Boone, I figured that out within ten minutes of talking to him. He's a hell of a guy, but he's not the best actor in the world."

 

"Did mom realize it too?" Boone was incredulous. Why hadn't they said anything?

 

"I doubt it, she was so excited to finally meet him, she was eating up every word he said," his dad shook his head, chuckling. "He was charming as hell with her, don't worry, she won't care that he's a hockey player."

 

Boone's eyes went wide, "Wait, what? How did you know that?"

 

"I know  _ you _ don't care much about sports, but once you moved down there, I started keeping tabs on the Blue Jackets and OSU," Boone's dad shrugged a shoulder. "I just figured he needed to keep a low profile. I'm not going to be the one to air out his business."

 

Boone had to close his mouth when he realized his jaw was hanging open. "I can't believe you just let us go on with that when you knew who he actually was," he shook his head and snorted. "Well since none of that was all that shocking, there's one more thing. We haven't actually been dating for a year."

 

"God, I'd hope not," his dad said, brows raising. "If that kiss under the mistletoe was still  _ that _ awkward after dating a year, I would've told you to move on already."

 

"How the hell did you know that?"

 

"Boone," his dad said, one side of his mouth turning up. "I'm not as oblivious as I seem. I wasn't going to say anything because Ryan seemed like a good guy, and your mom was thrilled. A few little white lies aren't the worst thing in the world."

 

"Do you think mom's going to be pissed when I tell her?"

 

"Depends," Boone's dad paused, "did you actually get your shit together and ask him out already?"

 

"Dad!"

 

"Come on, that was why I didn't say anything! I knew you  _ wanted _ to be dating him."

 

Boone couldn't believe it. "We had dinner last night, and we're getting together on Sunday. So we actually are dating now, for real."

 

"Well then," he smiled, holding up his own beer, so Boone could see it, tipping it toward the screen in a toasting motion. "I'll talk to your mom and explain it all. Tell Ryan we'll see him at Easter."

____

 

"Your dad knew  _ everything?" _

 

"He probably has your jersey or something," Boone said, standing at the counter in Ryan's kitchen on Sunday, doing his damnedest to halve brussels sprouts with Ryan's terrible excuse for a chef's knife. And Boone didn't even have the words to tell Ryan what an awful idea it was to have a  _ glass cutting board _ , but at the moment, it was all he had to work with. "And he figured out that it was our first kiss under the mistletoe that night."

 

"Well at least he's going to handle the hard part and talk to your mom," Ryan shrugged while he rubbed freshly ground peppercorns into the steaks they were making for dinner. 

 

"I was expecting far worse when I broke the news to them," Boone grabbed the olive oil from the shelf next to Ryan's stove. It was terrible quality, but it would do for now. "But if nothing else, no more hiding from my parents. You should definitely send him a signed jersey or something, though. He'd get a kick out of it."

 

"Give me their address, I'll have all the boys sign it too," Ryan kissed Boone's shoulder as he passed, pulling a bag of fresh mushrooms out of the fridge and dumping them out into a colander to rinse them. 

 

"Wait, no, don't rinse those, just wipe them off with a wet towel," Boone corrected. 

 

"Every single one? Separately? I can't just rinse them off all at once?" Ryan made a face and rinsed them anyway. 

 

Boone sighed. "You're the worst student. They absorb too much water that way." 

 

Ryan shrugged and looked over them. "They look fine, we're cooking them anyway."

 

Boone sliced through the (too wet) mushrooms and Ryan turned on the burners below his newly purchased grill pan. "Have you heard from your parents yet?"

 

"Mom wished me a Happy New Year and told me I should apologize again," Ryan shrugged one shoulder, resigned. "It'll be awhile before that goes back to normal."

 

Boone frowned and pulled Ryan into a hug, then pressed a kiss to his temple. "Well until they come around, you can borrow mine. My dad thinks you're awesome at hockey and I'm pretty sure my mom is researching how to recommend you for sainthood."

 

"Well I appreciate the offer," Ryan laughed, sneaking a quick peck on Boone's lips. "Though to be honest, you're my favorite part of that package deal."

____

 

The steak was cooked perfectly, the outside crisp from the grill and the inside a deep pink still. Ryan can't say he'd ever eaten brussels sprouts before, but he was going to do it again. Even with his inferior tools, Boone managed to cook up one hell of a dinner, and Ryan even helped a little. A very little.

 

"I should've started dating you before Christmas, so I could buy you _all_ _new_ kitchen stuff," Boone grumbled as he dried the blade on Ryan's chef's knife. "This knife is a disgrace. They shouldn't even sell something like this. But then, if you've been using it on a _glass_ cutting board, it's probably your own fault that the blade is such a mess."

 

Ryan just let him complain, leaning against the counter and watching him move easily through his kitchen. He was going to have to buy a few new knives. And a wooden cutting board. And apparently new olive oil. He should have Boone make him a list.

 

But that was a conversation for another day. Right now, Ryan just wanted to enjoy having his boyfriend in his apartment on a night off. 

 

"Can you stop bitching about my kitchen for like five minutes?" he asked, sighing dramatically and tugging Boone toward him. "I've got a belly full of good food and red wine. I want to make out with my boyfriend but he's too busy whining."

 

"I'm not whining!"

 

"Boone. You're whining."

 

"Well then have a better kitchen!" he huffed, but he was smiling, snaking his arms around Ryan's waist. "Then I won't have anything to complain about."

 

"Well I'll work on the kitchen part later," Ryan pulled him closer and laced a hand through the short hair at the back of Boone's head. "In the meantime, I have a  _ much _ better way to shut you up."


	19. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've finally come to the end! I want to thank everyone who has commented or given kudos or shown support--it's been ages since I've written anything this ambitious, and having an audience behind me made this even more rewarding. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did! You're all wonderful!

_ Valentine's Day _

 

"Okay, Murr, who's the girl?"

 

"What are you talking about?" Ryan was on the elevator at their hotel after a hard-fought overtime win in Tampa. He'd been texting with Boone, making plans for a belated Valentine's dinner the next night. He was probably grinning like a fool.

 

"You've been walking on air for like two months now," Zach explained, nodding at the phone in Ryan's hand, "and no one smiles like that for a text message unless the person sending it is someone you're banging. Who's the girl?"

 

Ryan grimaced and glanced around. Only Cam and Nick were on the elevator with them, and neither was paying attention to their conversation. Good. He paused for a moment, watching Zach's expectant pout. He was pretty sure Zach wouldn't freak out if he came out to him. But this was news you didn't give to your captain on an elevator, late after a game, so he couldn't do it here. 

 

"What makes you think there's a girl?"

 

"Murr, you haven't come out with the boys for drinks at home since New Year's," Zach explained, exasperated. "And you've most certainly been getting laid, you're way less cranky nowadays."

 

"I wasn't cranky before!" Ryan protested, stepping off the elevator at their floor. "Maybe I'm just enjoying our winning season."

 

"You're a shitty liar," Zach rolled his eyes. "But fine, don't tell me about your girlfriend. I just wanted to see who was making you go all starry-eyed lately."

 

Ryan paused at his door and sighed, waiting a moment until his other teammates had gone into their rooms. "Come here, you big idiot, I'll tell you about it."

 

Zach smiled, about as emotive as the kid ever managed to be, and followed Ryan into his hotel room. "About time."

 

Ryan tugged his tie loose and draped it over his suitcase, "So here's the thing, Z," Ryan started, hoping he was right about telling him this. "I've been seeing someone for a while, but, uh. It's not exactly a girl."

 

He almost didn't want to see Zach's face, in case he reacted badly, but curiosity won out in the end. Zach's eyes were wide, but he mostly just looked surprised, not disgusted. "Wait, you're dating a guy?"

 

Ryan sat on the bed and pulled out his phone, "Yeah, his name is Boone. Remember the team's Christmas dinner? He was the caterer." He opened the picture of the two of them at Wildlights and handed it over to Zach.

 

"You've been seeing this dude since Christmas and you never told any of us?" Zach sounded  _ wounded _ . "It's not like we'd give a shit if you're gay!"

 

Ryan let out a laugh, rolling his shoulders to release the tension there. "It's always a dicey thing, coming out to teammates. Not everyone is cool with it." 

 

"But we're  _ friends _ , Ryan, not just teammates," Zach handed his phone back, his brow furrowed. "I wanna meet this guy, we need to make sure he's good enough for you."

 

Ryan clapped Zach on the shoulder, chuckling softly. "I can handle picking out a boyfriend on my own, bud, sorry to say. But I appreciate the thought."

 

Zach paused a long moment before he spoke again. "Do you guys like, go out on dates? Does anyone ever recognize you?"

 

"Once in a while," Ryan thought it over, "most of the time people just want to get a picture or an autograph and they leave you alone."

 

"Are there places you can go to have a little more privacy?" Zach was more interested in this than Ryan had expected. "Like if you wanted to go on a really romantic date, and didn't want to risk anyone seeing you...is there a specific restaurant you guys would go to?"

 

"There are a few places where you can reserve a specific table," Ryan watched Zach curiously, wondering why he was so interested.

 

Zach nodded slowly, looking out the window, clearly distracted. It took a few seconds for him to snap back. "Well we should have dinner with this guy anyway, I want to meet him. Wenny'll wanna come too. Probably Jonesy."

 

"I don't need to take my boyfriend on a date with all of my teammates," Ryan groaned, raking a hand through his hair. 

 

"But we're your friends! We have to approve."

 

He wasn't getting out of this. Zach was going to tell Alex and Seth and they were going to insist. His friends were idiots.

 

" _ Fine _ ," he agreed. "Boone and I will make dinner next week for the McGregor fight and you three can join us. If you embarrass me, you're all getting Icyhot in your jocks."

____

 

"Your buddy Z has a crush on someone," Boone said late after what turned out to be a successful meeting with Ryan's teammates. 

 

"What? Z doesn't have emotions," Ryan grimaced, shaking his head, climbing into bed next to Boone.

 

"I'm telling you, he kept asking about where to go on dates to be  _ discreet _ . He's got the hots for a guy."

 

Ryan stretched out next to him and then curled against Boone's side. "I mean, he was asking a lot of questions when I first told him about you. But he never really  _ flirts _ with anyone or anything. I wonder who it is."

 

"Find out," Boone suggested, pulling Ryan into his arms, dipping his head down to kiss along his jaw, rubbing his cheek over the stubble already growing along Ryan's neck. "Then we can help him ask the guy out."

 

Ryan hummed a soft sigh and tipped his head back to give Boone better access. "We're not playing matchmaker with my teammates."

 

"Come on, Ry," Boone flicked his tongue over the spot where he could feel Ryan's pulse ratcheting up. "It'd be fun."

 

"This is way more fun," Ryan disagreed, pulling Boone's hips in tight against his.

 

He had a point.

____

 

_ Easter _

 

As a hockey player, by the time April rolled around, it was never all good or all bad. If you were heading to the playoffs, chances were that you were already nursing injuries and bumps and bruises, right at the time when you most needed to be healthy to start a playoff run. If you weren't heading to the postseason, you had time to heal, but this was not the time of year when you wanted to be sitting out.

 

Fortunately this year, Ryan was in that first group of players. His knee needed to be wrapped during games and he had to ice it after. He'd taken a stinger off of his elbow a week ago that had the tips of his fingers still tingling if he bent his arm the wrong way.

 

But it was playoff time, and he was closing out the best regular season he'd ever played. Sore or not, it was a pretty damn good time in his life.

 

He had just barely stepped out of the locker room and into the hallway after their last home game when he heard a woman calling for him."Ryan! Over here, sweetheart!" 

 

He rounded the corner and found Boone standing there, both of his parents in tow, Boone's mom wearing a dark home jersey with Ryan's number on the sleeves. Boone's dad had opted for the white jersey with "Jenner" across the back. Matt also had a jersey with Ryan's name on it, but he had it framed in his office at work, displaying the array of autographs across the back.

 

"I  _ knew _ I heard louder cheering than usual up in 113," Ryan said, letting Boone's mom pull him into a hug.

 

"I'm surprised they didn't kick her out," Boone groaned, shaking his head. "She threatened to dump beer on a woman who was wearing a Panthers jersey."

 

"Hell of a game out there, Ryan," Matt extended a hand and leaned in for a half-hug, patting him on the back. "Good play stopping Stamkos at the end there."

 

Ryan had only spoken to his own father once since Christmas, and it was only long enough for him to hand the phone over to Ryan's mother. Ryan still refused to apologize, no matter how many times his mom asked.

 

Ryan was getting post-game phone calls again, but now they were coming from Boone's parents. They'd invested in Center Ice so they could watch his games from home. Boone's mom called sometimes to tell him how great he was out there that night, even if Ryan was pretty sure she didn't quite understand most of the rules. Boone's dad was able to break the games down a little more, but most of the time he just muttered about how some player on the other team was a piece of shit and how Ryan did a good job shutting him down.

 

There was no game tape to go over. There were no questions about his training routine. Boone's parents were just two people who bragged about him to their friends and wore his jersey simply because they wanted to show support. He still wasn't quite used to it, but it was a nice feeling.

 

"Come on, guys, I'm starving," Ryan said, throwing his arm around Terri's shoulder and guiding her toward the parking garage. "Boone might even let me cook tonight."

 

"Boone is going to do no such thing, buddy," he protested as they walked outside, and Ryan just smiled while he talked about the steaks he'd been marinating for  _ hours _ and how Ryan would just scorch the outside and leave them raw inside.

 

They got to Boone's car and his parents climbed into the backseat, but Ryan stopped Boone first before they got in. "I guess I'll let you make dinner, if I  _ have _ to."

 

"You definitely have to, you're still a shitty cook, even if you're not as bad as when we started."

 

"Well if I'm a shitty cook, it's your own fault," Ryan threaded his hand through Boone's fingers. "You're the one who gets distracted from cooking lessons and starts feeling me up."

 

"I don't ever hear you complaining," Boone's voice dropped low and he leaned in to press a firm kiss to Ryan's lips.

 

At just that moment, the flash of Boone's mom's camera blinded them. 

 

"You boys are  _ adorable. _ "

 

"Mom, you really have to stop taking pictures of us when we're kissing, it's getting weird."

 

Ryan climbed into the car and spent the drive home listening to his boyfriend bicker with his parents about boundaries, and he was pretty sure his life had never been quite this awesome before.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, purely for entertainment purposes; I am getting no monetary gain from this. I am making no implications about the real people whose personas are borrowed for this work, nor am I affiliated with them or their teams, or the National Hockey League in any way.


End file.
